Mercenaries of Galm: Hounds of War
by Karaya 1
Summary: The legend of The Demon Lord has loomed large over the world, even years past the end of the Belkan War. No one knew who the ace really was, and where he came from. This is the Demon's attempt to set the record straight. This is a story of conflict, friendship, strength, and courage. This is the story of Galm, the real hounds of war. Ch. 12 is now up!
1. Chapter 1

**AN/: Guten Tag, and greetings! Welcome to Mercenaries of Galm: Hounds of War. This, of course, is my first story, so please forgive me for any missed mistakes or errors. I would appreciate reviews and any other things you would like to send my way. I need all the help I can get. ******And guess what? I don't own Ace Combat or anything as such. **Anyways, let's get on with it! Enjoy.**

**EDIT: I've changed the rating from this story from M to T, mainly because the added stuff I could do was actually harming the story. So, if you've read this before, the chapters have been edited for language and some of the more graphic things.**

**QUICK NOTE, PLEASE READ!: I am deviating from the set dialogue of the game since you know, Cipher can TALK. So don't be surprised when you see this. **

Prologue: If you listen, If you read, You will learn.

My story is one that has never been revealed. No one truly knows the man behind the legend of The Demon Lord. No one knows who Cipher really was. Except me, I guess. It starts simple enough, being a farm boy born Erich Völler in 1974. I was raised in the countryside of Southern Belka, particularly in the region of Ustio. If you saw me, you'd know where I'm from immediately. Buzzed blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a 5 foot 11 inch stature, characteristic of the Aryan Belkans and Ustians.

I grew up with a love for the sky. Especially from listening to my father talk about his exploits in Osean Continental War in the forties, where he flew a Me 109G in the Belkan Air Force. Although I grew up in the clouds, my father never wanted me to go there. He always insisted I stay on the ground and go to college to be an engineer. But for me, It never could last. In my teens, I flew gliders with a few friends of mine at an old Belkan airfield nearby. It gave me a chance to touch the heavens that before, I only could dream about. It truly changed my life forever.

When I turned 18 in 1992, I rejected a scholarship to go to the University of Oured, and enlisted as a mercenary fighter pilot. My father raged at me for a good hour when I told him what I was doing. He said I was going to throw away my life for something that had no real value, and I was going to be scarred forever. I loved my father, and It was terribly hard for me to turn my back and leave home with him in this state.

But I did, with tears streaming down my face. But I had done what I wanted, what I knew would make my happy, and satisfy the everlasting need of mine to fly higher and faster than ever. In training, I flew with Belkans, Oseans, Yuktobanians, Emmerians, Estovakians, Eruseans, Useans, you name it. I toured all over the world for my training, and I loved every minute of it. It was during this time I was given the nickname the few people close to me knew me by. Cipher. It was given to me by an Yuktobanian pilot named Viktor Andrianov, who said it would be hell for anyone flying against me, because it would be like breaking a complex cipher, since I was near impossible to read.

I took the nickname to heart as I continue to fly and to impress around the globe, and finally take it to the grandest stage on the planet. The Belkan War had begun on March 25, 1995. I had accepted an offer from the Ustian Air Force to fly in their newly reformed, mercenary-only, 6th Air Division. I was quickly assigned and deployed to the 66th Air Force Unit.

And it was on April 2nd, 1995, that the story of the Hell Hounds begins, where mine and another intertwines. This is the story of Galm.

Ch. 1: A Last Gasp For Breath

I was cruising in my F-15C at 20,000 feet over the mountains of Valais AFB, ready to get some action. I was motionless in the cockpit of the Eagle, and I was quietly confident that I could take whatever came at me.

"Alright, good to see everyone got up," Central Command said over the radio, "The Belkan Bombers are now entering the area of engagement, begin interception."

"Roger," I responded.

"Cipher, you are now in command of the Galm team as Galm 1. Pixy, you're now Galm 2."

"Copy," the pilot of another Eagle with a single red wing replied, "You better have the money waiting for us after this."

"That's only if you two get back alive," Central Command responded.

"Yeah, Yeah, just make sure it's ready when we get back."

The other F-15 formed up on my right wing as I moved to the lead position.

"You ready to go, Cipher?" Pixy asked.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"I've heard about you," The mysterious pilot said, "And I'm anxious to see what you can do. Take us away, flight leader."

We banked to the left and made a long swooping turn to head off the formation consisting of 6 B-52Gs, 6 BM-335s, and a mixed fighter escort. We were going to have our hands full.

I adjusted the throttle to three-quarters thrust, and armed my missiles. I was going to make a high-to-low cutting pass at the first four bombers in the formation.

"Pixy, I'm going to make a cut at the lead bombers, keep them off my tail would ya?"

"Sure thing Cipher, I'll watch your back."

I nosed the Eagle down from 20,000 feet and began my dive, increasing the thrust again. The Eagle began to shake as I blasted past Mach 1, and I readied my finger of the missile fire button on my joystick. The bombers began to zoom in towards me, no longer specks, but monsters in the sky. I switched to my multi-lock AMRAAMs or Slammers and let loose a volley at about 3000 feet from the bombers. I quickly zoomed through the middle of the formation as the missiles impacted.

"That's four confirmed kills for Galm 1, good shooting Cipher!" Pixy called, "I'm drawing the escorts keep going!"

"Roger, continuing attack, AWACS update the scope, over."

"This is AWACS Eagle Eye, high copy, radar has been updated."

I looked down at my radar screen as the wrecks were now out of the picture as the next bomber formation came into view. But, I didn't have time to attack as the Mig-21 escorts weren't too happy I had wiped out almost half their attack strength in a single pass. The were at my one o'clock high and diving fast.

"Pixy, pick up the slack, escorts are on me. Go for the bombers, over," I hailed on the radio.

"I copy, Cipher."

I gunned the engines on afterburner as I rose to face the Fishbeds. I placed myself on course for a head on collision with the lead as I depressed the trigger for my cannon. The twenty millimeter beast roared to life as I scattered his wingmen, but the lead remained motionless as I closed in on him, the cannon still roaring. Seconds later the Mig exploded into a plume of flame and steel, and I stormed through the cloud of fire.

I made and Immelmann turn as I chased down his number two. He was running scared and I calmly sat behind his tail, not tiring myself out chasing easy prey. I followed easily as he was jerking and wildly flailing around. I fired a Slammer and he was disabled. But, I didn't let that fly as I finished him off with a sidewinder for good measure. I heard the Belkans cry foul at that, but I ignored their outburst. I Split-S'ed and went after the last Mig-21 who was trying to climb back up to make another pass at me. I quickly climbed and pulled lead on him as my cannon's aiming reticule came up on the HUD. I put it about 4 inches in front and gave a three second burst. It had an immediate effect as the right wing shredded off, and the Fishbed spiraled out of control. I never saw a chute.

"Pixy, one wing of escorts are down. How's the bomber attack coming?"

"Good, some of the other wings have lent a hand and we're almost done. The escorts are bugging us, can you give us a hand and swat the flies?"

"Roger, I'm inbound."

I climbed again up to 25,000 feet with the sun to my back. I pulled back to about eighty percent thrust as I made my way over to the the bombers. Pixy was right, It was almost mopped up, but I could see the smoke trails from the enemy escorts' missiles.

"Cavalry's incoming," I called.

I hit my afterburners as I rolled over and made a long-winded Split-S to get behind the formation, and I immediately let off Slammers at the five fighters, but these were Mig-29's and were not going to go down as easy. I managed to get one of the Swallows, but the others quickly broke their attack and came after me.

I was unfazed as my missile alert was going off, quickly reacting by speeding up right towards them. I let loose both of my sidewinders, and as soon as I passed them, I stamped on my air-brake and turned around to chase after them. In my first pass I had mortally damaged two of them, so I finished them off with my gun. But the other two seemed different. They had matching light-grey camouflage with red tail-planes. Aces, no doubt.

They quickly put me on the back foot, with one forcing me into a rolling scissors. I fired bursts of cannon fire as we weaved back and forth past each other. His counterpart then proceeded to try and attack from up top. I responded by breaking the maneuver and turning on him, but the first one again was right on my tail. I continued to drive at the high rider, while the other Swallow riddled my Eagle with cannon-fire from behind. I then hit my afterburners and pulled an Immelmann turn and forced the two Mig-29's to scatter into each other. I managed to get the first one right out of the turn, and gave chase to the last one. He climbed up into the sun in an attempt to blind me, but it failed. I fired a Slammer and his plane was gone in a flash.

"Give me a sit-rep, Eagle Eye," I called.

"All aircraft have been destroyed. Good work Galm Team."

"Roger, Pixy form up," I said as I leveled my Eagle at 15,000 feet.

The white solo red winged Eagle soared up to meet my grey double-blue winged Eagle as we slowly made our way back to base.

"Hey Cipher, I think you and me are going to get along just fine. Buddy."

I looked over to him in his Eagle and gave him a thumbs-up, "Glad to hear it, Pixy."

"Don't mention it. Now let's get our money."

I laughed, "You read my mind!"

We landed back at Valais AFB shortly afterwards, and I quickly hopped out of my Eagle to meet my new wingman. He had short cut, but messy brown hair, and cold brown eyes. He wore an old-fashioned leatherneck jacket like the one I was wearing. He had a small grin on his face as I came up to him.

"You're a bit of a youngster aren't you, buddy?" he said as he held out his hand.

"Yeah," I said as I shook it, "Doesn't mean I can't fight."

"I didn't mean that," he said with a chuckle, "Just didn't expect it."

"Front seldom tells the truth. To know the occupants of a house, always look in the backyard."

Pixy shook his head and he wore the same grin, "Where'd you learn that?"

"Here and there," I said returning a sheepish smile, "You learn a few things traveling the world as a fighter pilot, and as a person."

"Wise words," He said as he looked back up to the blue skies, "I'm Larry Foulke by the way."

"I'm Erich Völler," I responded looking over in the direction of GHQ, "Should we go get our money and cash out?"

"You bet! Pay day is always a good day!"

We sprinted off to GHQ to pick up the day's check.

Someone has to put the food on the table.

**AN/: Well that's one in the books! Hope you enjoyed it, I really did enjoy writing it. I hope you liked it. R&R as always, and the second chapter will be coming soon!**

**Even though it may be similar to the Ultimate Ace, I will put a glossary for some references and jargon you might not get, or would explain where I got it from.**

**Glossary:**

**"Front seldom tells the truth. To know the occupants of a house, always look in the backyard."-This is a modified version of a quote from one of the Charlie Chan movies of the 30's and 40's. If you've never seen or heard of these movies, plenty of them are on YouTube for your personal enjoyment. **

**Immelmann turn- (Of course some of you may already know what this is.) A plane climbs in a half-circle and rolls over when the maneuver is completed. Named after WWI German Fighter Ace Max Immelmann, considered to be the first ace ever. The Pour Le Merite(Germany's(Or Prussia's) highest award during WWI), was nicknamed the Blue Max in his honor after his death in 1916.**

**Split-S: Same as an Immelmann turn but is descending in nature, and the roll is done first(due to taking Positive-G's which you won't pass out from, compared to Negative-G's.)**

**Andrianov- Nod to Nikolai Andrianov, the olympic Russian gymnast, who stands third all-time in cumulative Olympic medals with 15. **

**Sit-rep: Short-hand for Situation report.**

**GHQ: General Headquaters**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN/: Guten Tag, and welcome back. I wasn't going to do a one and done. Here's Chapter Two. **

**EDIT: I've changed the rating from this story from M to T, mainly because the added stuff I could do was actually harming the story. So, if you've read this before, the chapters have been edited for language and some of the more graphic things.**

Ch. 2 Little Steps

-Two weeks later: April 15, 1995 approx. 1100 hrs.-

Operation Roselein. The first drive back against Belka. Pixy and I were tasked to escort a squadron of F-16XL's to the major supply line at Route 171 in the Sapin countryside of Arlon. It was only our second mission as the Galm Team, but I was again confident we would be able to make the operation work. It was a clear, pretty day in the Sapin farmland. It reminded a lot of the green hills at home at my farm in Ustio.

I could feel the new stitching in the back of my jacket as I readied myself in my ejector seat. I now wore the emblem of the Galm Team, the hellhound, red and bound in chains, waiting for an unwary soul to walk unsuspectedly into its grasp. I shook my head as I thought about it.

Hounds, sure, I thought, But Hellhounds? I don't know.

I was cruising along at 21,000 feet up with Pixy behind me off my left wing. The delta wing XL's were in front of us, six of them, making up the 37th Ground Attack Unit, Halo squadron. They were all mercenaries like us, and were a pretty good group. Their flight lead, a 28 year old Osean named James "Tiger" Cho, was a ground attack specialist, and Pixy and I were rather glad he was going to be taking the flak, literally. Even so, they armed us with UGB's, just in case something did go wrong with Halo's mission directive.

"Hey Tiger, targets are coming up, we got your six, whenever you all are ready." I called to the Halo leader.

"Roger Galm 1, we'll stir the hornets up a little. Halo, let's roll!"

We watched from up high as the modified Falcons dove for the deck armed to the teeth with Mavericks and Bomblet Dispensers. With all that ordnance they might as well could level Dinsmark. As they moved in on the first target area near one of the bridges over the Aare river, the Mavericks sprang out from the XL's and destroyed all of the defenses in less than 10 seconds. I had to give it to them, Halo was damn good at ground attack.

"First target area clear," Eagle Eye barked, "Move onto the next area Halo."

"Roger AWACS, proceeding towards second target area," Tiger replied.

"Galm, I'm picking up multiple signatures coming from the West heading for Halo. Intercept immediately."

"Roger Double E, we're moving," I replied as I flipped on the little switch for arming the missiles, "Pixy we are green, I'm picking up two squadrons. I'll take front wing, you take the rear."

"Roger Cipher, let's get 'em."

We both hit the burners to catch the fast-movers. As we closed in onto the formations in the clear blue sky, the Belkan fighters finally came into view. I had the luck of picking on four F-16C's.

They were flying in a finger-four formation, and moving from left-to-right in front of me to intercept Halo's flight. I quickly pulled lead on the number four plane and gave a good 5 second burst on him. I managed to tear up his tail as I pulled in behind the formation, and It was an easy sidewinder lock and dust. The other three Falcons quickly scattered in front of me, so I chose to go after the flight lead which had gone high and pulled an Immelmann turn to try and get behind me.

I countered immediately pulling a tight loop to come back and meet the lead's guns. As soon as he realized I was facing him, he rolled over and dove for the deck. I did a Spilt-S and went after him. He was weaving about left and right trying to shake off my lock, but I just sat there and let the bastard tire himself out, all the while shaking off fire from the other two Falcons. I closed in on him and let my cannon do the talking as the fighter split in half, spilling oil and gas all around the damaged airframe. The other two Falcons tried to fire their AMRAAM's at me, but I climbed back up and faced them, forcing their dispersion to my left and right.

"Tiger from Halo flight here, now prepping for run on second target area. We're still clear. Keep it up Galm."

Neither Pixy or I had time to reply, as he was also in a fight of his own with a squadron of Phantoms who were giving him just as hard a time.

I went after the Falcon that dove low to my right, and kept the power on to trail him as best I could. He pulled into a loop that I followed and as I came out, the other Falcon was rushing towards me, cannon blazing.

"Oh shit!" I yelled as I jerked the stick left as I dove for the deck from about 8,000 feet. I was lucky to come out of that unscathed. The first Falcon was still in front of me so I gave chase. I had to close the gap. I used the Eagle's massive engines to close in on him. Although the Falcon has a kick-ass engine, it just couldn't keep up with the two monsters bolted onto my airframe. I closed the distance quickly, and as soon as I entered sidewinder range, I fired and the pilot had little time to react as the missile snaked to the fighter and blasted it to ashes.

The other Falcon was in on my tail again hoping to make a revenge kill, but I climbed up hard as he fired his sidewinder at me. It streaked past my tail as I continued my ascent letting out a sigh of relief. But the chase wasn't over. I had to shake him off. I gunned it for the flight ceiling, barrel rolling all the way to dodge the fire from the Falcon. The plane was shuddering immensely as I continued to climb breaking Mach 1. As I reached 35,000 feet I quickly stalled the Eagle and forced it down to dive back at the Falcon. He had the speed advantage, so I had to attack quick and bolt as soon as I fired. As soon as I hit effective range and had my sidewinder locked, I fired and dove to my right and out of the line of fire. I looked over my left shoulder to see if it had worked. It did. Too much momentum, and he couldn't react at all. Another kill.

I came down and leveled at 10,000 feet over the main road. I hailed Pixy as soon as I could over the radio.

"Pixy, Cipher here, my wing is all down. What's the skinny?"

I got my answer as his Solo Wing Eagle formed up on my right wing.

"Bagged 'em all. Whew!" He said as I could see him lift up his visor and wipe his brow, "These guys are tough, even in Phantoms!."

I laughed, "If they weren't, they wouldn't have gotten this far outside of Belka."

"True," he said snapping his visor back down, "Probably should check on Halo Wing."

"Roger that," I said as I checked the frequency again.

"Tiger, this is Cipher, we've cleared the bandits, how's the running going?"

"Approaching third target area now, no troubles. But there is something you two might be interested in."

What the hell could that be?

"We're listening Tiger."

"There are some storage areas that are known to be used by Belkan forces, but we didn't attack them because they aren't priority targets and they are off the main attack route. Since you have some UGB's you can go after them, and get some extra dough for it. But, they are not required, it isn't critical if they are destroyed or not. It's up to you Galm."

"Roger Tiger, thanks for the heads up."

"Anytime Cipher. We are attacking the third and final area in 30 seconds, Eagle Eye."

"Roger Halo, maintain current course." The AWACS responded.

"What do you think Pixy? Should we take those out?"

"Uh," he said as he paused for a couple of seconds, "It's up to you Cipher. Doesn't really matter to me."

"Roger."

I sat quietly for a few moments, thinking on this. But then I realized, It was extra cash for targets that will hurt us later if we leave them alone.

"Pixy, we are going after them. Arm UGB's and prep for bombing run ASAP. Eagle Eye give us the layout on radar."

"Roger Galm 1, the seven targets are marked on the screen now."

They were bundled up in an area about half a mile to the East of the main road in the center of the combat zone. We headed that way to make our run at them from a low 3,000 feet. We would make quick passes over the area dropping bombs in offset intervals.

"Alright, Pixy move behind me, we'll make three seconds drops on this."

"Roger, ready for mark."

I lined up with the targets, which were closing in on my HUD at my twelve. I readied on the release trigger, and aimed with my targeting reticle on the glass display. After about 5 seconds I was in the sweet spot.

"Pickle, Pickle! Mark!" I yelled.

After three seconds, Pixy dropped his bombs.

"Pickle, Pickle, ordnance released!"

I looked over my shoulder to see the effects of the bombs. Dead on target. The fuel and ammo dumps were alight and burning. Bonus money in the bank.

I checked the scope and it was now completely clear. All I was picking up was Pixy and Halo flight.

"Eagle Eye, scope is clear of all targets according to IFF. Please confirm, over."

"Roger Galm 1, we're checking."

A few seconds passed and I got my answer.

"All targets are confirmed destroyed. Galm Team, Halo Team, Good work, RTB immediately, over."

"Galm 1 copies all."

"Halo Wing, copies," Tiger responded

I slouched back in my seat and laughed. Another day down.

"Seems luck was on your side today, Solo Wing," Eagle Eye spoke happily over the radio.

"Yeah, I've had my fill of going home without wings," he said with a kindhearted chuckle.

"Yo, buddy, still alive?"

"So far." I said giving a thumbs up as the white Eagle formed up on my right wing.

"Good flying today guys," Tiger said as he formed up his unit behind us, "Made the going much easier. It's nice to have a good fighter escort for once in our damn lives."

"Glad to be of service," I responded.

"Let's get back home, Cipher," Pixy said.

"Amen to that."

Little did I realize, home had become a little more crowded while we were out working. The base was now packed with fighters and bombers and was a hive activity compared to the past few weeks. Flights were constantly heading in and out non-stop, and we had to wait about 20 minutes to get on the ground.

As we rolled onto the runway and headed off to our hangar. We were stopped just outside, and a green-camouflaged Humvee stopped over on our left-hand side. A general, 3-Star, got out of the Jeep, and peered over at us. He looked more like an active duty pilot than a general.

This general looked to be in his early 40's and had perfectly cut black hair protruding from under his officer's hat. He wore his CWU with patches from squadrons in the OADF. He wore aviator sunglasses, and his skin was rather tanned compared to the pale skins that live in Valais. He was smoking a cigarette, and had a smile on his face. I quickly unbuckled and hopped out of my Eagle and as soon as I hit the tarmac, I turned and saluted. The General returned, and motioned for me and Pixy to come to him.

"So you are the Galm team, eh?"

"Yes, sir," we both responded at attention. We may be mercs, but we were in their air corps, and we had to follow the rules just like anyone else.

"Well, you both certainly look the part, and from the reports I've read, you fight like real tough sons a' bitches. You boys have hammered those Belkans right back into the dirt, and without your help, we couldn't be standing where we are now."

I had a big shit-eating grin on my face. This general is right up my alley.

"At ease gentlemen," he said allowing us to get out of the uncomfortable pose, " I am General Charles Chennault, commander of the Sixth Air Force. I run the whole mercenary operation around here. The reason I am here today is that I have a job I need you do for me. I'll explain more at GHQ."

We got in the Humvee with Chennault and his driver, and were ferried over to the GHQ over off the right hand side of the runway, alongside the tower. There was a lot traffic on the way. Repair, munitions, and fuel crews were driving all over place.

"Pardon me asking, sir," Pixy said, "What's all this activity about?"

"All in good time, Mr. Foulke."

We stopped outside the main doors of the building and were led in by the General, since mess and the barracks were not in here, and our briefing were given to us in our hangars, we had never been inside GHQ. It was a hotbed of scrambling officers and personnel carrying reports and papers. The old general led us into a briefing room and we sat down. He walked to the front of the room faced us, standing next to the projector board, and took off his glasses. He motioned for his aide, the sergeant who had driven us, to dim the lights as the projector hummed on.

"The reason for me being here today, and the increased activity of the airfield's personnel and squadrons, is this. In five days the Allies are launching Offensive Campaign No. 4101. The Osean Third Naval Fleet will be attempting to break through Belkan defenses towards the Futuro Canal, in our attempt to ready ourselves to liberate the southern countries and in turn Ustio, from Belka's grasp."

"So what do you need us to do?" I asked.

"I need you to be here, Captain Völler," he said pointing to a different area, far to the north of Futuro, on the tactical map behind him.

I saw the area and knew immediately what it was. Pixy did too. B7R. The Round Table. We were going into, definitely, the most dangerous area in the entire theater of combat.

"Uh, sir, why are we going there? The offensive is a good ways from there," I said in confusion.

"You, and your wingman will be there to divert all attention from our advance towards Futuro. We'll be sending you in officially as reconnaissance, but in reality, you'll be there to stir up as much trouble as you possibly can."

We were astonished. Only two missions as a team, and we were going into an area that only the best pilots could thrive, let alone survive.

"I know you may think this is difficult, but I know you can do it. You are the best we have, and were born for this moment. Go show them what Ustio really stands for, Völler."

I smirked at those words. He was giving Pixy and I the chance to prove ourselves in front of the whole world. If we succeeded, we would be on the path to legendary status.

"If you succeed you will also be granted a fifteen percent pay bonus, and a guaranteed upgrade at some point in the future."

I looked over to Pixy, and he was grinning too.

"We're in, General. We'll raise a hurricane, just for you," I said with confidence.

"Good!" he said taking a long puff from his cigarette, "The bastards won't know what hit them until it is too late. Thanks boys, I knew I could count on you. You're dismissed."

We stood up and saluted. We walked out of the room happy and elated. This meant a beer tonight at the base's officer bar, The Jet Wash.

-Later that day, approx. 2100 hrs.-

"So that big-dog Chennault came, huh?" George "Buzzard" Kildare, Halo's number two, asked.

"Yeah, he wants us to do an op into The Round Table," I replied hunched over the bar counter, taking a sip from my beer.

"No shit, Erich?" the Usean redhead asked.

"No shit."

We were getting our free round at the bar for getting our mission logged in the books. Anytime that any pilot on base completed a successful mission or operation, the bar would give you a round for free, no questions asked. They had contacts at GHQ to make sure no one was pissing on them. Pretty much all of guys at The Jet Wash were at some point fighter pilots, so they took good care of us.

Pixy had ran off about half an hour before, claiming he had some calls he needed to make. Tiger never came to these kind of things so, I was alone with the rest of Halo squadron. The five of them were all under the age of 25, which was hard for some people to believe. But, we youngsters had all trained together in the same group. We all got along with each other fine, most of the time. The first one I met was 21-year-old Buzzard, who was my partner in training. He was a bit desperate for fame then, but It didn't ever bother me.

"Throwing you to the wolves pretty quick for a team that's only been together for two missions," said the squadon's number three, fellow Ustian Vicki "Vixen" Ickx, down the bar to the right of Buzzard. She was 20 at this time, same as me. She had regulation cut blonde hair, and pale blue eyes. Her skin was pale, much like everyone else's.

"Well, I guess that's similar to what they did to you and me in training, huh?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," She said downing the last of her beer, "Pretty much the same as throwing us in a mock dogfight with Andrianov, and then giving the bastard live ammunition to shoot at us. Then we had to 'shoot him down'."

"I thought that was just a rumor!" Halo's number four, 19 year old Hector "Lobo" Diaz, burst out in his unmistakable Sapinese accent on Vixen's right, "I can't believe that they actually did that to you!"

"Seems it kept me alive, anyways," I muttered to the black haired, black eyed merc.

Hector hadn't had the best start to the war, being jumped by Belkan Mig-31's the first day of the conflict when he was on patrol. Lobo had been on edge ever since that point, recovering somewhat since my operation went well with them that day.

"At least I'm not as stupid as Rainman," I said loud enough so that the he could hear me sitting where he was next to Lobo down the bar. I heard him growl over in his seat a way's down the bar. But he didn't get up. "Such a worthless piece of shit," I said under my breath.

"Just figured that out, Erich?" Buzzard quipped, almost bursting out laughing.

"No, Buzzard, I didn't," I said calmly.

James "Rainman" Crowley was a vainglorious asshole, and a royal one at that, pun intended. The guy was some aristocrat from Emmeria, and the whole time through training the hot-shot boasted that he could wipe out all of us without breaking a sweat. We never had time after training to hold him to his words, but something else happened. That same patrol Lobo was bounced on and lost his mind, Rainman was with him, and barely did anything to shake the Foxhounds off of Lobo's tail in his XL. Then, we he got to ground, he blamed Lobo for getting them in trouble in the first place. Luckily, the entire Halo squadron and myself stood against his word. Let's just say it didn't end well for him.

The last of the cubs in Halo was sitting to my left. I patted him on his right shoulder to see if he was alright. He was laying his head, on which brown hair sat and green eyes rolled, upon his crossed arms. He stared at the bare wood covered wall in front of him. This one had no name. The only name he knew was his nickname, "Zero".

This guy literally appeared out of thin air at training, lying knocked out on the ground. He had no idea who he was, or where he had come from. No clue. There was no ID on him, which was very strange, since one would have had to present some sort of proof of who he was in order to even get to the training phase. We took him in as a brother-in-arms. He never spoke much, but when he did, everyone listened. We gave him a name that was defined as nothing, but to him, it was everything. Zero was a loyal-to-the-end kind of guy. He didn't let his trust go lightly.

He stirred almost as if in some sort of dream, but his eyes never moved an inch.

"You alright Zero?" I asked with a tone of concern in my voice.

"Yes. I'm alright, Cipher. Didn't mean to scare you," he said moving his head up a few inches.

"Good, keep that head glued on, alright?"

He slowly nodded as he took up his old position staring back at that damn wall. I looked over to Buzzard and Vixen and they just shrugged.

Let it lie, I thought to myself.

There was a TV up in the top left corner of the bar area, and I started to watch the military news that they were broadcasting. There was a big headline at the bottom of the screen.

YF-22 AND YF-23 SET TO SQUARE OFF, TESTING FOR ADVANCED TACTICAL FIGHTER PROGRAM PUSHED UP BY OSEAN JOINT CHIEFS, DUE TO BELKAN CONFLICT.

That was enough to get my attention.

"So, they're finally going to do it, after what, 15 years?" Buzzard said mockingly at the colored light box.

"Thing's going to be a disaster, no matter which one they pick," I replied to Buzzard's words.

"You got that right," Vixen said putting her head in hands.

The TV then showed a picture of the two prototypes side-by-side in a hangar at some airfield in Osea.

"Which one's which?" Lobo asked.

"Smaller one is the 22, the bigger V-tail one is the 23," Zero said not even moving from his place.

"They both kind of look funny," Buzzard responded.

"Yeah," I replied in agreement, "They do. But those bastards wanted advanced shit so they gave it to them." I got up from my seat, and gave my regards to the bartender.

"See you guys later," I said waving goodbye to my compadres in the Halo squadron.

Don't know how they are, but I'm really damn tired, I thought as I headed outside into the dark, and the cold.

**AN/: Another operation complete for Cipher and Pixy, and Halo squadron enters. Halo is going to be playing a big part in the coming future. Please R&R and I hope to see you at Ch.3 Not a Knight, but a Demon.**

**Here's the glossary:**

**Deflection shot: Pretty much equates to shooting a bird or clay target with a shotgun. A pilot has to aim ahead of the enemy plane, due to the angle of fire. Modern planes have targeting computers that can do the lead for the pilot, and give them a sweet spot to aim at. For more information on this, check out Hans-Joachim Marseille or the page on Wikipedia devoted to this technique. **

**Chennault: Reference to General Claire Chennault, commander of the American Volunteer Group in China, which fought Japanese Air Forces there before America's entry into WWII. Highly regarded as one of the best commanders ever. Without his leadership, Nationalist China would have fell to Japanese forces.**

**Advanced Tactical Fighter Program: Initiated in the 80's in order to counteract the SU-27 threat posed by the Russians. Northrop and Lockheed were selected to develop their prototypes, the YF-23 and the YF-22 respectively, to compete for a manufacturing contract. The YF-22 won, becoming the F-22 Raptor. Even so, the YF-23 was faster by .2 mach in super-cruise and full afterburn, stealthier by a noticeable margin, and supposedly easier to repair than the Raptor. I'll leave it up to you why it wasn't picked.**


	3. Chapter 3: Not a Knight, but a Demon

**AN/: Guten Tag. I'm back again. Now, we start.**

**EDIT: I've changed the rating from this story from M to T, mainly because the added stuff I could do was actually harming the story. So, if you've read this before, the chapters have been edited for language and some of the more graphic things.**

Ch.3 Not a Knight, but a Demon

-April 20, 1995. Approx. 0655 hours.-

Over the next couple of days leading up to the operation on the 20th, I didn't really do much, except hang around with the guys in Halo. In the meantime, I worked on painting my flight helmet. I was pretty damn proud of it.

I had painted the helmet completely in metallic black, first. Then from the front, I painted gold streaks at random intervals where the plastic met the top of the visor in its lowered position. The streaks stretched to the back and bottom of the helmet. Then on the right side in cursive I wrote Cipher in gold, and on the left side I wrote, also in cursive and gold, Galm 66.

It took me the whole five days to do it, but like I said, I felt a sense of pride in wearing it now. I knew who I was, and that's the most important thing in being a fighter pilot. If you didn't, some guy who did was going to kick your ass out of the sky before you even knew what happened.

I was sitting on my bunk in the NCO's barracks, staring at the floor, just thinking. I really didn't know what to feel. This was the make or break mission. This was the one that would define the kind of pilot I was. I couldn't believe I was thinking that at only my third operation.

Man, I thought, If it keeps up like this, I might become more than just a mere fighter pilot.

I looked at my watch. 0700. It was time to go. I picked up my helmet, put on my worn-brown leather flight jacket, and went to go meet destiny. I hurried out to our hangar over on the line, and rushed inside of the upside down u-shaped building, out of the cold weather. Pixy was already there checking on his load-out for his Eagle, and was doing a once-over on the bird to make it was to his liking.

As I walked in, I just gave him a wave, and he nodded in reply as he finished his checks. I gave the crew my order for my payload. Sidewinders and Slammers. This was going to be a big air battle. I needed all the air-to-air ordnance I could carry. After we were loaded and done, the crew rolled the planes outside and next to each other on the tarmac. It was here that Halo came to send me off. I went and shook hands with everyone, and even Rainman pulled the rod in his ass out, and wished me luck. Vixen, to my surprise, gave me the biggest send off. She came up to me, and squeezed me with a hug around my neck.

"You watch yourself out there Erich."

I looked her right in the eyes and beamed, "I will. Always have."

"Good," she whispered and she backed off and got in line with the rest of Halo.

Then the ground crews took a picture of the Galm Team in front of the planes with one of those self developing cameras.

I had my helmet on of course, with the visor down, as did Pixy. We stood at ease in front of our Eagles's noses, unsmiling and unfazed, with the hangar in the background.

As soon as the picture was taken by the ground crews, the chief mechanic, Lothar Wolff came up and had me and Pixy sign it.

"This is going on the wall at The Jet Wash. No matter what happens today, you guys have helped us out more than you could imagine, so this is our thanks to you!" the young grease monkey said happily.

"You're welcome," I said warmly, signing the small photograph, "Keep everyone in line while we are gone."

"I'll do my best," he said and stood back and gave a salute.

"Don't worry, Lothar," Pixy said grinning as he saluted, "We'll be back."

We climbed up into our Eagles, and I bolted myself in to my machine. I lowered the canopy and started up the jets. I did one last control check, and then gave the wave-off signal to remove the wheel chocks and the ladder from the plane. I then began to slowly roll forward. I put the Eagle onto ten percent thrust, and headed down the taxi-way to the end of the runway. As soon as I was in position, I hailed the tower over the radio.

"Tower, this is Galm 1, requesting immediate takeoff on runway 9, over."

"Roger, Galm 1, you clear to takeoff, runway 9, over."

"Galm 1 copies all, proceeding."

I pushed the throttle lever steadily into the max as the burners kicked in, emitting a purple hue into the space behind me. I rolled down the runway, and at about 180 miles per hour, I hopped into the air. I then turned off to the right, and decided to make a pass back over everyone at the hangar. I let back on the throttle so I didn't go supersonic over the base. I settled at about 1,000 feet, and headed their way. I could see all of them on the ground waving up at me. I rocked the wings in acknowledgement, and pulled back hard on the stick into a vertical climb. I passed through the clouds and leveled at about 30,000 feet as Pixy copied my actions.I activated the autopilot and waited for Pixy to catch up. About a minute later, he was on my wing, and we were on our way to the Round Table.

-Several Hours Later. Area B7R. Approx. 1130 hrs.-

The Round Table was a wasteland. And that's putting it nicely. It was a barren mountainous plane, which also carried severe magnetic resistance ruling out any use of ECM or ECCM. It meant the pilot had himself and his plane alone to do the work. Everyone was on the same footing. The name held truth in it.

I was looking forward from our 30,000 foot vantage point, and I finally took the Eagle off autopilot, and engaged manual control. I armed my missiles and guns, and got as comfortable as I could in my seat. It was going to be a long day.

Radar signatures were starting to come in on the screen. It was time to play.

"Galm, this is Eagle Eye, I'm picking up eight aircraft, looks like four Mig-21's and four F-4's, in the B7R zone. Give yourself a minute to get comfortable in the area, and then initiate intercept."

"Roger, Double E, wilco."

"You ready buddy?" Pixy asked.

"Think so," I said in a fearful tone.

"This is what we were born to do, Cipher! Let's get them!"

The other ace gave me the confidence I needed to begin my attack.

"Let's switch it up Pixy, I'll take the Phantoms this time. You can play with the Mig's."

"Roger, Pixy engaging."

"Cipher, engaging."

The Phantoms were riding in a diamond formation about 7,000 feet below me. I dove for them, and put in a deflection shot on the leader aiming in front of his nose. I fired for about 5 seconds on the Phantom, and it immediately burst into a ball of fire as the other three broke formation.

"I bagged one," I hailed over the radio, "Continuing assault."

"Roger Galm 1, kill confirmed," Eagle Eye replied.

I kept after the tail bird which had reversed after the squadron had dispersed. He dove low in a Split-S trying to get me to overshoot in the descent. But, I had none of it and was right on the Phantom's tail. I fired a sidewinder, but he rolled even lower and got out of its path.

"These guys are good!" I said as I kept on the chase.

The Phantom was weaving in front of me, trying to get me to chase and put me in a rolling scissors, but again I sat back and let him wear himself out.

Fine, I thought, you won't have a missile, but you can have this!

My 20mm roared to life and was a direct hit on the Phantom, shearing the cockpit straight out of the plane. No chute.

I climbed up, chasing another Phantom. I managed to wound him in the belly with cannon fire while he flew over me. I punched left and got behind him fast, and finished him off. The last one was now coming at me head on, but another signal was coming in from Eagle Eye.

"Reinforcements coming into the Round Table. Heads up, Galm. These signatures seem different than the normal grunts."

"Roger, Galm will standby," I said subconsciously as I fired a sidewinder. It impacted the last Phantom only a few hundred in front of me and it spun out of my way into the dirt below. I switched to the enemy comm. channel to see who it was.

"Rot 1 to all planes, we got some planes on the scope, looks like the Ustio mercenaries. Time to hunt some wild dogs, down 'em all."

Rot, I thought, These guys were some of the best pilots Belka have. This distraction was working wonders for the Joint Fleet. The Belkan COC thought this "enemy recon" was more important than the entire Allied fleet advancing.

Rot. Oh shit! THE Rot!

I switched back to main comm. and gave Pixy the news as he formed up on my wing, after finishing off his Fishbeds.

"Rot Squadron is coming after us, Pixy."

"THE Rot?"

"Yup, Four planes inbound, the radio signals confirmed it."

"Well, this'll be fun."

"I don't think we can tangle with them."

"We WILL survive, Galm 1! Just do the best you can."

The Rot's came into the zone with their distinctive red-nosed, and black-bodied Typhoons.

"Typhoons, eh?" Pixy said, "These guys will definitely be a step up from the others. Watch yourself."

"I copy, Pixy, let's get to work."

They were coming right at us, straight and level. I had just the weapon to scatter them. I armed four AMRAAMs and locked them up.

"I got the Slammers, ready Pixy?"

"Yeah!"

"Fox 3, Fox 3, Fox 3, Fox 3!"

The four Slammers raced to the fighters, and while the Typhoons easily avoided them, it scattered them effectively.

"I'm taking the Rot lead! I'm going to cut the snake's head off first!" I yelled.

I dove at ninety percent thrust on the leader, and he was already giving me trouble. He quickly pulled an Immelmann turn and sped off, with the number two now hot on my tail. I rolled and dove low, almost brushing the ground as I pulled up, but the other Rot managed to follow it.

Really?!

I climbed again and saw the two other chasing Pixy out of the left corner of my eye. I turned after them, even with the number two still all over my tail. I yelled in rage as I fired my cannon, as the Typhoon behind me fired his into my Eagle. I managed to hit one of them as I raced through the storm of lead. The Typhoon behind me backed off, so he didn't crash into the fray. Pixy started to go after the wounded one, but I quickly got in his way.

"No! He's mine!" I finished him with a sidewinder and the plane burst into pieces.

"Woah! Cipher, take it easy!"

I ignored Pixy as I dove down looking for the lead. He was waiting for me at about 15,000 feet. I hit the afterburners and climbed after him, pulling an Immelmann to get on his level. He started the dance by climbing some more, and pulling a tight roll to come back and face me, so we both fired missiles at each other. I rolled low to dodge it and so did he. I managed to get back on his tail with a quick rudder drift. He then pulled into an endless vertical loop, swooping up and down in the same motion, over and over and over. I couldn't do anything. I was as at too bad of an angle of attack to fire anything effectively at him. So I broke out and made a turn along the mountains and re-engaged from a higher altitude. He was still giving me a real hard time as the Typhoon pulled a Cobra in front of me. I was waiting for the moment one of them tried something like that.

The problem with these types of maneuvers is simple. They cut speed, dramatically. While they look pretty and rather cool for the civvies, in combat they fail. It is very difficult to pull out of one of these maneuvers successfully, and even so, the precious momentum and speed you've built up is lost in a pinch. The acceleration required to recover from these maneuvers is too great for anyone to continue an effective attack. For me, the rough maneuver always won, every single time.

As soon as I saw him pull into the Cobra I stamped on my air-brake, and locked him with a Slammer. I let it loose from the pylon and it hit the Typhoon right on the money, but the damn thing was still going!

"These guys have some serious armor! A Slammer isn't even enough!" I said frantically.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Pixy yelled as I saw him hit one of them with a QAAM, "Same thing just happened to me!"

The lead dove, quick, and I followed, again. This guy was getting on my nerves, but I didn't let it show in my flying. As he turned to the right in front of me, I lined up a deflection shot.

"This is my best chance."

I fired my gun, and it growled to life. The cannon started to rip holes in the Typhoon's fuselage, and it shuddered with every hit. The engines were burning out now, and I kept my finger on the trigger. The plane leveled out, and I saw a column of smoke come out of the cockpit as a black speck rushed out. He had bailed. I finished his plane with a Sidewinder. I obliterated that piece of shit, and it felt so good to destroy that scrap heap.

I climbed after the other two which were chasing Pixy high into the clouds.

"Cipher, a little help!" Pixy called as another missile blew past where he had just been.

"Inbound," I growled.

I raced after Pixy and found the pair of Typhoons side-by-side, latched right on to his tail. I decided to engage with the cannon, so I didn't tip off the pilots with a radar spike. I fired on the right Typhoon, and quickly knocked him out of action by firing right into the cockpit. I didn't care. I wasn't taking any chances with the armor they had. The Typhoon slowly fell towards the ground with the pilot slumped up against the stick. The last Rot pilot then went into a rage, and he quickly stormed off and reversed to come after me, but I was already re-adjusted. I had climbed and positioned myself above him to his left and in front of the sun, so he couldn't see me at all. I had Slammers ready to blast his face off.

I switched over the comm. to enemy channel.

"You ready to die?" I asked.

"You Ustian dog! I'm going to kill you both!"

"Dead men's words have no value here!"

I switched back over and fired.

"Fox 3, Fox 3!"

The AMRAAMs sped towards the Typhoon and made it into an incinerator within seconds. The wreck tumbled from the heavens and hit the dirt, hard. But, the pilot had bailed right as I launched the missiles. I had scared him out.

I checked the scope, and it was clear. I leveled at 25,000 feet and took off my oxygen mask, and I was breathing heavily. I slumped back in my seat, head up to the skies. I was tired.

Almost got killed in that hellhole, I thought

Pixy formed up on my right wing, and called me on the radio.

"Yo buddy, still alive?" I didn't say or do anything. "Cipher, you there?" I gave out more silence. "You alright? What the hell what all that you were doing?"

I held up my oxygen mask, and said, "I'm winning this damn war, Pixy." I checked myself over, and was wound free. I was lucky. My Eagle, however, not so much. The tail looked like it had gone through a meat grinder, my engines were on their last legs, and the flying surfaces were barely holding together.

This bird's got almost nothing left, we need to get home fast, I thought staring over in Pixy's direction, whose Eagle was just as badly shot up.

"Eagle Eye here. Message from General Chennault: Diversion worked to perfection. Fleet is through and heading to Futuro Canal with no hindrances. Job well done. End of message. Good work Galm Team."

"Roger, Double E. My bird is badly damaged can we RTB, ASAP?"

"Oh, sorry Galm 1, you're good to go."

"Thanks Eagle Eye," I said taking a deep breath.

I looked back towards The Round Table, now knowing I had survived its test. I couldn't keep a smile off my face.

"We did it, Pixy. We did it."

"Just barely, Cipher. By a hair."

"Sometimes a hair is all you need to win."

"That's true. Listen, Cipher, you can't just throw the plane around in there and expect to win everytime."

"If I didn't expect victory, I'd never win. "

"Just," he sighed, "Watch yourself more closely, it's only going to get harder from now on. I've got a feeling isn't our last time here at The Round Table."

"I've got that same feeling. This is just the beginning of something bigger than us." I pushed up my visor and looked over at Pixy in his Eagle, "I'm tired man, can we go home instead of debating my philosophy, here of all places?"

"Yeah," he said with a small laugh, "Let's get out of here."

"Thank you."

I gently put the Eagle on the correct heading and altitude, and we left the proving ground as champions. I checked behind my mirror to see if death was sitting there. He wasn't. Not today.

**AN/: Another sortie done for Galm Team, and a long road ahead. Hope you guys enjoyed it, R&R Please! **

**Karaya 1**

**Btw, Go Bucks!**


	4. Chapter 4: Victory-Defeat, Switch-Repeat

**AN/: Man, the dust's building up here already! Guten Tag and Hello! I'm back. Here's Ch. 4**

**EDIT: I've changed the rating from this story from M to T, mainly because the added stuff I could do was actually harming the story. So, if you've read this before, the chapters have been edited for language and some of the more graphic things.**

**EDIT 2: The former cover photo was a picture of Erwin Rommel's Pour Le Merite. The current cover photo is a picture of the Red Baron, Manfred von Richthofen in front of an Albatross during WWI.  
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_"As long as I look into the muzzles, nothing can happen to me. Only if he pulls lead am I in danger."_

_WWII Luftwaffe Ace, Hauptmann Hans-Joachim Marseille_

Ch. 4 Victory and Defeat, Switch and Repeat

-April 20, 1995. Valais AFB, Ustio. Approx. 1745 hrs.-

"Tower, this is Galm Team. We have both sustained heavy battle damage, and require an immediate emergency landing. Scramble the ambulances and fire crews," I nervously spoke desperately trying to get the F-15C's flaps to cooperate.

"Roger Galm Team. Good to see you guys made it back, you're clear for immediate landing on runway 27. We're ready for you," The tower responded with cheers audible in the background.

"Thanks tower, coming in hot."

I threw down the lever for the gear, and luckily the steel struts came out from their places and locked in position under the Eagle. I rammed the flap lever down again trying to get them to lock in maximum drag position. They wouldn't. They just wouldn't.

I lined up on course with the runway, and completely cut the engines. This was going to be a gliding landing. It was the only way it was going to work.

It was dead silent. The Eagle was gliding down to Earth, but much too quickly, my airspeed was still reading over 210 mph. As I came nearer to the ground, I reared up and pushed the tail up just like every other landing. The speed was still too high, 195 mph. About ten feet off the ground, I stamped on the rudder pedals, engaging the speed-brake. The F-15C dropped like a brick and landed hard on the rear wheels. Fortunately, the support struts didn't collapse and the tires were still intact.

Lucky bastard, I thought to myself.

I gently lowered the nose and eventually I made a soft-touchdown and eased the engines back on. Once I was at taxiing speed, I turned off the runway. I looked in the mirror to see if Pixy had made it. The solo red wing Eagle was further down the runway, but Pixy had the luck of cooperating flaps. He had a much easier time putting his Eagle on the tarmac.

I gently parked my Eagle by the team hangar, and the whole base was rushing out to meet me. Lothar broke through the crowd, and got the ladder hooked on. I opened up the canopy, and climbed out. Lothar gave me a salute, and everyone else followed in example. I returned and found the gang, who were standing further back in crowd.

"I told you I would come back," I said happily to the Halo group.

"You're not one to lie about that kind of thing," Vixen responded with a small smile, "Well done."

"You lucky jerk!" Buzzard yelled as he came over wrapping his left arm tight around my neck, and throwing me around, "I knew you could do it!"

"You….choking…..me…."I barely managed squeak out.

"Oh, sorry," he replied quietly, as I regained my composure, and my breath.

"You're fine, Buzzard. Just, don't do it again, without prior warning."

They all had a good laugh at that as Pixy caught up with me and we headed to The Jet Wash for the party. It was fucking ridiculous, everyone was really drunk except me and Pixy. There was some singing, some major spills, and some wasted people at this party. Pixy and I just sat quietly at the bar, giving thanks for anyone's congratulations. I decided this was a good time to ask him about why he was acting weird about that stuff over The Round Table. I took a swig from my beer bottle, and looked over at the ace. Pixy was staring at the wall in front of him holding his hands together in front of him. He looked to be deep in thought about something.

"Pixy, what was that stuff you were going on about today?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked stirring from his thoughts.

"You damn well know."

"Oh, that. You just remind me of somebody I used to fly with."

"Who's that?"

"A wingman of mine, that I flew with in one of the proxy wars, about 5 years ago."

"What about me reminds you of him?"

"Your tenacity. He'd never let a target slip from his grasp. Once he was on you, he never let him off, ever. He was one of the best pilots I've ever had the chance of flying with, but he got himself in trouble for not knowing his limits."

"What was his name?"

He turned to face me, and looked me over.

"Joshua Bristow."

"Wait, you flew with Bristow, of the Wizard Squadron?!"

"Yeah, he was my wingman back in '90. He flew a F-14A back then, but man, he could make that bird dance."

"Wow, I wish I could get to fly with him."

"You just might, buddy. With the way you're going, you might even surpass him."

He got up and quietly walked out of the bar. Pixy was an enigma. He was always a mystery to me, the Solo Wing pilot's past incredibly unclear. Even so, I trusted him as much he trusted me. Completely.

-Four Days Later. April 24, 1995. Futuro Canal, Sapin. Approx 1300. hrs.-

One more mission. That's how much was left in my Eagle, according to Lothar, after being almost completely trashed over The Round Table.

We were on cruise at about 30,000 feet over the canal, providing top-cover for the Osean 3rd Fleet, flag-shipped by the new Hubert-class aircraft carrier CVN-30, the Kestrel. This was her first run, and it was going to be a baptism by fire.

Halo squadron had participated in an operation earlier in the day, Round Hammer. They had destroyed the Belkan fleet stationed at the canal, the port, and the surface weapons that would have destroyed the fleet, if left untouched. They had refueled and rejoined the fight for Operation Costner, which was our operation, where we would be protecting the fleet from any and all air attacks. Halo was just there to take out any ground forces that could have been missed by the other ops. It was nice to fly with my friends again.

"Hey! Rainman!" I called mockingly.

"What! Shut the hell up Cipher!"

"Tonight, I'm going to hold you to your promise!"

"What promise?"

"The one that you could take us all on by yourself! You said you could in training."

"You guys don't really think I.."

"Now, now," I said cutting him off, "Don't chicken out on us."

"Yeah," Buzzard chimed in, "I can't wait to get back now!"

"We'll see if it humbles Mr. Knight over here," Lobo chuckled.

I heard a beeping coming from my left in the cockpit. I took a look at the radar. The IFF squawk was now going off like crazy.

"Eagle Eye, I'm picking up heavy enemy activity, confirm on your end, over," I broadcasted over the comm.

"I'm not liking this," Pixy muttered.

"Me either," I whispered back.

"Galm Team, this is Eagle Eye, IFF activity is confirmed on our end. Looks like several waves of ground-attack aircraft. You are cleared to intercept. Halo squadron maintain current heading and altitude."

"Roger, Eagle Eye, Halo will maintain course, " Tiger called back in, restoring order among his cubs.

"Roger, Eagle Eye, we're on the move."

We rolled over in our Eagles and dove for the attackers closing in from both sides of canal.

"Pixy I'll take the western bank to defend, you take the East."

"I copy, Cipher."

We split off to engage the bandits. Four F-1's were coming in the first attack wave. I dove left, steadying about 2,000 feet, to start my attack. I lined up the F-1's for AMRAAMs. As they entered effective range, I let them loose from their chains.

"Fox 3! Fox 3! Fox..ah, forget it."

The Slammers blitzed through the air, and swatted the F-1 attackers out of the air like flies. I gained altitude readying for the next wave. Tornado GR.4's this time. More of a challenge.

I started my attack by making a tight Split-S to get behind the five craft, and immediately let rip with my cannon. The furthest back Tornado was caught in the gunfire, and quickly flopped into the sands. I moved up after the next one, and he tried climb up and right, but I pulled a deflection shot, and he too, was done.

The other three then broke off their attack on the fleet, and decided to come after me. I jumped up on full power, and sped away from them, pulling into a 85 degree climb. The Tornadoes came up after me, and I was ready to make my move. At about 27,000 feet, I stalled and flipped the Eagle to come down and go after them. At about an 80 degree angle of attack, I opened fire with my cannon on the Tornadoes. I fired into the cockpit of the lead, scoring a direct hit. It rolled out of my path, and I continued my fire on the other GR.4's. The second came into range and I made another cockpit shot, again, I was right on the money. The final one weaved out of his climb before I could get to him, and he tried to run for the fleet to get at least some of his ordnance off. I got right behind him, and gave him a little present. A sidewinder quickly rammed into the Tornado's tail, nicely ripping it off. I checked my radar for more bogies. Nothing on my end.

"Saw the whole thing," Vixen called, "You're getting pretty good Cipher."

"Ruthlessness and patience make a good combination,"Zero hailed on the comm.

"Aw, guys, I'm flattered," I said beaming. I checked the radar and there were still a few signatures coming up.

"Pixy how's it looking on your side? I'm no joy over here."

"I'm almost finished up here, got two Tornadoes. I've almost got them wrapped up."

"Roger, keep at it."

I checked the scope again, and three pairs of new bogies were coming in. One on my side of the river, another coming from the north of the canal, and the last one on Pixy's side.

"Uh, Eagle Eye? You seeing this?"

I waited for the tactical controller's response.

"Roger Galm 1, you are advised to engage the squadron on your side of the canal and the same goes for Galm 2."

"Roger," Pixy grunted, sounding like he was going through a high-G turn.

"Halo squadron!" The AWACS controller barked.

"Yes, Eagle Eye?" Tiger called back.

"We're picking up additional aircraft entering the engagement zone. You and your squadron will attack the two targets to the north of the canal."

"Roger Eagle Eye, let's roll cubs."

There was a chorus of rogers, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Halo's six F-16 XLs zooming to the north.

I turned my attention to out West where two signatures were coming in from. I was circling in my area of engagement at 28,000 feet, and two specks were coming in from eleven o'clock at about 10,000 feet. I took out my monocular, really my sawed-off half of a binocular, and focused in on the specks. I wasn't happy with what I saw.

"I got Flankers on my end," I said as I put my monocular away.

"Mirages here," Pixy replied.

"Tigers are closing in on us, ready your cannons," I heard Captain Cho order.

I focused back on my business, and took off in pursuit of the Belkan Flankers. They immediately turned and came back in my direction as soon as I began pursuit. I readied my finger over the special weapon release button on my joystick, and continued accelerating towards the Flankers. The twin engine Sukhoi fighters were closing the distance fast, and were about to enter their effective missile range as well. It was a standoff to see who could fire off their missiles first.

Tick…..

Tock…

Tick…

Tock…

Tick…..

Lock! I fired off two Slammers and waited for the confirmation on the enemy missile fire. After another two seconds, my missile warning began screaming in my ear as I waited for the missiles to come to me. I could see them snaking at thousands of miles per hour through the heavens towards the nose of my Eagle. As soon as I could see the tips of their AMRAAMs clearly in the distance, I hit the afterburners and dove low under the path of the missiles. They couldn't keep up the loop and I was free. I looked around for the Flankers and I caught a glimpse of smoke trails from where they had been. I followed them to the ground, and the fighters were a heap of wreckage on the sands of Futuro. So much for that.

"Sit-rep Eagle Eye," I called instinctively.

"The west and east sides of the canal are clear. But…."

Oh shit.

"I'm on my way north! Pixy get on my tail now!"

"Roger Cipher!"

We hauled as fast as we could on full combat power to get to Halo's position. They still hadn't managed to shoot down the Tigers, which I didn't hold against them. Some pilots just aren't marksmen with their cannons, and they hadn't received any sort of air-to-air missiles for the operation.

"Halo squadron, clear the area immediately. We'll take these bandits," I hailed on the comm. as we rushed into the swarm of lead and contrails.

"Roger, they were….." Tiger said but he was cut off rather quickly. I saw his XL heading my direction away from the fight at my high-twelve, but in a flash, the delta-wing Falcon exploded, and almost took me out as it crashed down from the heavens. Tiger had the most unfortunate missile contact I'd ever seen. The sidewinder had slammed right into the remaining ordinance on his wings, which also detonated on impact. The Falcon was torn in half, and there was no chute or safe ejection. Tiger rode that thing to his grave.

"NO!" I called, "Eagle Eye, Halo 1 is down! I repeat Halo 1 is down!"

"Roger Galm 1," the controller called, "The faster you clear that airspace, the quicker we can send the rescue choppers."

"Copy that," I scowled. "Buzzard!"

"Yeah Cipher? I'm a bit busy shaking these guys!"

"You're next on the chain! Get the rest of the guys out! Pixy and I will splash these jokers!"

"Roger Cipher! Vixen! Lobo! Rainman! Zero! Get out now! We don't stand a chance!"

I quickly locked up the Tigers and fired my Slammers in their direction. I had to get them to move so I could safely evacuate Halo. The quick lock-and-fire had scared the jumpy Belkans, as the two F-5's quickly turned tail, to try and set up another attack. This distraction was just enough to get Halo Team out of the Belkans' grasp, and they managed to safely bug out.

"Thanks for the assist, Cipher," Buzzard panted heavily.

"Watch over them," I quietly and calmly ordered the new Halo 1.

"I will."

"Pixy, down 'em both."

"Roger, let's get them," my wingman replied.

The Tigers came head on at us, but we didn't fire and just made them move out of our way. We immediately reversed, and took to the chase. I was chasing the one that shot down Tiger, and decided I was going to torture him, just a little bit. I rode the F-5's tail, spiking him with a missile lock. I refused to fire, closing in to less than 500 feet behind the fighter. He leveled from a climb and just sat there, thinking he was dead. Seconds continued to pass as he continued flying straight south. I pulled up on his left and looked over at him. He was shaking uncontrollably and he looked rather afraid, as he turned to look at me. He actually had a Tiger painted under his cockpit. I scowled and got back behind the Belkan's tail. I fired my sidewinder without hesitation, and the F-5 shattered, and the collection of metals and compounds fell to the Earth, and a pilot in a parachute was not far off. It took all my strength to not shoot him in his chute.

"That was for the real Tiger, you bastard!" I growled over the radio.

"My target's down Eagle Eye. Probably think it's time for us to go home," Pixy hailed.

"Roger Galm 2."

"This is Captain Weeker on the Kestrel, we received no damage from the enemy ground-attack planes. Couldn't have gone any smoother. My thanks goes out to our escorts. We've already sent a chopper out to the downed plane," the jubilant captain said from the safety of the bridge on his aircraft carrier.

"Thanks Captain," Buzzard called over the radio.

"Galm and Halo teams are to RTB immediately, over." The AWACS called.

"Roger," Pixy called, "Let's go Cipher."

We turned and headed north-east back to Valais. I slowly looked over my shoulder to see if Death was on my tail. He wasn't. Not today.

**AN/: Not a fun day at the office for Galm and Halo. Anyways, I'd like to thank you all for 70+ views already on this story. I'd never thought in starting this story I would get that many views, so thank you! Also, I want to give you an update on when the next chapters should be coming out. School has come back and bit me rather badly, while my grades haven't been affected, my time has been greatly occupied with the work. Also the sport I compete in, Skeet, is coming back into season soon, so that also will affect the chapter update rate as well. I still will be vigilant over this story, and I promise(God forbid I go back on this) that I WILL FINISH THIS THING. So, I will see you guys next time, whenever that may be!**

**Fly far, Fly high,**

**Karaya 1**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN/: Guten Tag, and here's Ch.5 on a very special day, my birthday! Yes, another year in the book for me, and hopefully many more! Anyways, here's a off the main path chapter.**

**EDIT: I've changed the rating from this story from M to T, mainly because the added stuff I could do was actually harming the story. So, if you've read this before, the chapters have been edited for language and some of the more graphic things.**

Ch.5 Desk Jockeys and Flight-Stick Cowboys  
><em>The hunters are the ones who go out and kill. Maybe one out of ten good fighter pilots will be one of the hunters.<em>  
><em>— Jack Ilfrey, USAAF, 8 victories WWII.<em>

-April 25, 1995. Valias AFB. Approx. 0930 hrs.-

I stood at the end of the runway, part of the vigil standing on the concrete outcropping that jutted into the valley. Valais was silent today. No movement, no activity. All of the missions scheduled had been cancelled. Everyone on base came to this little ceremony at the end of the runway, looking out into the snow-filled beauty of the mountains. Even General Chennault came to pay his respects. It was a fitting place to do it.

Sad is not the word that accurately described how we felt. Angry, perhaps. But in reality, it was part disappointment, and part happiness. Tiger was in a place where he no longer had to risk his life anymore, but it was disappointing, that he had died, in my mind, for a cause that really was worthless. He was a good pilot, and even though I didn't know him well, I held a great amount respect for him.

Unfortunately, the rescue teams were unable to retrieve his body, since he went down over the water, and I was pretty sure he was badly decapitated and thrown out of his plane on impact, so it might of been good that they didn't. All we had of his that was left was a bag of some personal belongings, which we were sending back to his family.

Vixen was laying her head into my right shoulder, looking out into the barren land. The sun was cresting over the high over the Eastern peaks, and cast a solemn shadow over the group. I had my head bowed, and my mind was filled with sorrow. It wasn't overwhelming, but it was sad looking back on what happened. I turned my head to look at Vicki, and she had much the same look on her face.

"I'm never going to let this happen again," I spoke softly into her ear.

"Unfortunately Erich, we don't have much control over that."

"I know, but I'm going to work even harder to keep everyone alive. We have to make it through this."

"We will, Erich, we will. We just have to stick together, and watch each others backs. Besides that, there's nothing more we can do."

I looked down at my feet, and sighed. Something in the back of my head was telling me it was going to get a lot worse from here on.

I felt a hand tap me on the left shoulder, and I slowly rotated my head around to see who it was. Chennault. I was too worn down to even salute.

"Do you mind coming with me, Mr. Voller?"

"No."

I whispered my goodbye into Vixen's ear, and walked off from the silent remembrance. The General took me over into GHQ escorted by two MP's. I had no idea why he wanted to see me. Chennault took me into his office, and motioned me to sit down in a chair facing his desk. I had never been in his office before. It was rather plain, white walls, grey carpet, tactical board over to his right, and a large oak desk. His desk was cluttered with papers and information reports. I was glad at that moment that I wasn't a general. I couldn't imagine how they kept up with all the procedural jargon and bureaucracy.

"I'm sorry to drag you away from the remembrance. It pains me greatly that we lost Cho. He was a good man, and a hell of a pilot."

"We were lucky to have him," I said solemnly.

"You got that right," he chuckled lightly, but his smile soon faded.

"What do you need general?"

"It's not necessarily that, I need you, but some people do need you. But, there's something I need to give you first."

He opened a drawer in his desk, and pulled out a small sealed envelope. My name was hand-written in a fancy text on the front, with no return address, or any evidence of who it was from. I opened it, and the first thing I pulled out was a small piece of paper.

It read:

_Dear Mr. Erich Voller,_

_The government of Ustio would like to thank you for your service in our armed forces, and preventing our nation from being overrun by Belka. By order of Chancellor Lehmann, you have been given an honorary officer's commission in the Ustian Air Force as a Senior Captain, due to your actions and your heritage as a Ustian native before our independence. You have also been awarded the Military Merit Cross(located in envelope), for your act of courage against impossible odds over combat area B7R. We thank you for your gallantry in defense of our nation._

_With regards,_

_Defense Minister Heinrich Graf_

I almost dropped the letter in shock.

"Is this real?"

"Yes, it is," The general replied lighting a cigarette.

"This is incredible, I can't believe it."

"Well Mr… I mean, Senior Captain Voller, this leads to the part about someone needing you."

"Lay it on me."

"You've seen the ATF news, as of late?"

"Yes sir, I have."

"Well, I got a call yesterday from Osea's Joint Chiefs, and they had a request for me."

"Well, what is it?"

"They're coming here tomorrow, and they want you to test and advise them on which aircraft they should pick."

I put my head in my heads and laughed. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious. That's really the reason you got an officer's commission, so you can look professional in front of the Osean commanders."

"Again, I know nothing. Now, I need a uniform."

"We already have one for you. It's here at GHQ, in your new room."

"Huh?"

"Since you're a commissioned Ustian officer and a unit commander, you can now stay here in one of the CO rooms."

"Alright, I will, but only if Pixy and Halo team is allowed to stay here as well."

"Of course, I've made such arrangements already. I wasn't going to let you sleep in the warm while they freeze their butts off in the NCO barracks."

I chuckled. Again, Chennault surprised me.

"Do I still make my mercenary pay?"

"Yes, you will, plus this new annual salary."

"Can't complain about that."

"Sure can't," he added as he turned back to his paperwork, "You're free to go Captain, and make sure you pin that medal in the envelope on your dress uniform when you get it. One of the MP's will show you your way to your room, your things are already there."

I got up and saluted, and he half-returned it. I strolled back out the door, and I put the envelope in my jacket pocket. The MP who would be escorting me was right outside.

"This way, Captain," the white-helmeted sergeant announced. I was led back to the entrance of the GHQ and he stopped there. "So, there's two main halls. The one you just came from that goes to the left is to the general's office and briefing rooms. The hall to the right goes to commissioned officer's quarters, showers, and mess."

"Ok, thanks for the heads up, Sergeant," I said trying hard to wipe away my frown.

A small grin appeared on the sergeant's face, "Anytime, sir."

He took me down the right hall a ways, and stopped me again at one of the doors on the right. The door itself matched the hall. Bland, cold, and emotionless. A small plaque read 11.

"This is your room Captain, Number 11. The general also asked me to inform you the Chiefs will be arriving in the morning around 0730 hrs, and that you should be well prepared before then."

"Thanks for the relay," I said, "I appreciate the help."

"Sir," he replied as he saluted.

I returned the salute.

Well, I'm going to have to deal with this shit non-stop tomorrow, I thought. Fantastic.

I push opened the door to my room. It was not half bad. There was a single bunk-bed, a couch underneath a large window directly facing the door, and a small desk with a lamp over on the left wall. The walls were painted white, of course.

On the bottom bunk there was my bag, my new uniform, and something else too. A brand new flight jacket, leather of course. But instead of the worn brown color that mine was, this one was a shining jet-black. The jacket also had black wool for the collar lining, and had the big Galm Team insignia on the back. I quickly pulled my jacket off and tried the new one on. Fit me like a glove. I took it back off and sat it on the bed, so I could check the fit on the uniform.

It was a retconned stone-grey Belkan Air Force uniform. It was easy to tell from the button style and the hat, since my father had one just like it. The buttons were laid on on the sides of the dress jacket, so it could hang open when not on active duty. The hat was a field-grey peaked crusher, and had a piping of color between two buttons, that ran around the whole circumference. A Belkan Air Force Officer's peak hat piping was typically colored yellow, but since this was repurposed for the Ustian Air Force, whoever issued it changed the color to red to match the national colors.

I put the whole thing on, shirt, jacket, hat, shoes, the whole damn thing. It actually fit pretty well, and was somewhat comfortable. I pulled the envelope out of my flight jacket pocket, and took out a small rectangular black box. I opened it, and pulled out the small red and white cross. Also in the box was a small note. It read:

_The Military Merit Cross, Order of the First Class, is to be worn on the left breast._

_DM HG_

I unbuttoned my jacket, and pinned the medal over the left breast pocket of my shirt. My rank insignia's for Senior Captain were already attached on the collar braids, and the four studs were laid on the shoulder mark, also signaling a Senior Captain.

I put on my peak cap and put on my new black flight jacket, and headed back outside. The little ceremony had already concluded, and I headed over to the end of the runway where Buzzard and Vixen were still standing. They both looked rather downcast, so I decided I would give them the good news.

"Hey, you lowlifes!"

They turned and their bottom lips just hit the ground.

"Woah Erich! When'd you get that?" Buzzard said astounded.

"Few minutes ago. Chennault handed me my officer's commission for the Ustian Air Force, came down the chain from the Chancellor himself."

"Congrats Erich," Vixen said as she came over and patted me on the shoulder.

"There's also some more good news, and a little bad news, mainly for me."

"Hit me," Buzzard replied.

"Good news, you all get a commissioned officer's room at GHQ."

"Sweet! What's the bad news?"Vixen asked

"Well, the Joint Chiefs are coming tomorrow, and they're having me test and advise them on which fighter to pick for ATF."

"That's not life ending, Cipher," I heard from behind me. Pixy. He seemed to be his regular cool, collected self. No outward display of weakness. "That's better than getting killed."

"Yeah, well, there's nothing I can't stand more than politicking generals and commanders. They're so full of themselves, and how 'brilliant' they are. Wouldn't be surprised if they nuked themselves. Probably would call it a victory," They all laughed at that, not realizing the truth behind those words, "Well, you guys probably need to get your things moved. I'll see you later."

I gave out my goodbyes, and everyone seemed to be in a little bit better of a mood. That was a victory in itself.

-Next Day. April 26, 1995. Approx. 0915 hrs.-

The Joint Chiefs came into Valais on a E-3 Sentry to avoid any combat. The re-purposed 707 landed on the dot at 0745, escorted by the two prototype fighters. The first order of business was the routine base tour led by General Chennault.

Pixy and I weren't required to go on it, so we waited for them to get to us in the Galm Team hangar. Lothar was busy working on Pixy's Eagle, since the hours off was giving him time to get it repaired before our next sortie, since mine was beyond repair after the strain I put on it during the last sortie, anyways. Pixy and I were sitting in folding chairs at the nose of my ruined Eagle, facing the hangar door waiting for judgement. The weather had darkened up a little from yesterday, with the sun now breaking through mixed cloud cover. I was jittering and squirming in my chair. I didn't like this whole charade one bit.

"I want this to be done, now," I muttered angrily.

"Trust me Cipher, I don't like this anymore than you do. We just have to play along."

"I hate playing games with this. These guys think they're smarter than everyone else. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's pretentiousness. Though I've heard the Marine guy isn't half bad though."

"Yeah, I heard the Marine Corps guy was alright too, but I also heard they're getting ready to kick him out fast."

"Why's that?"

"Apparently he likes to say 'No' to people."

"The boys in the Corps probably love him,"I said as I started to hear some voices coming from the distance, "Shit! Here they come. Schnell!"

We picked up our chairs folded them, and quickly threw them to side of the hangar with a loud, 'CLANG'. Lothar and the few other ground crew members dropped all of their things and hurried to stand with us. I quickly unzipped my flight jacket so my dress jacket could be seen, and straightened my crusher hat. Lothar stood on my left, and Pixy was on my right. The ground personnel evened the formation on both sides.

The five men were led by Chennault into the hangar. They all looked to be at least in their fifties, if not more. They all had grave and wrinkled faces. They wore their respective uniforms, and full peak caps, probably hiding bald spots. We all snapped to attention at once and saluted.

"Now," Chennault began, "This is our other main squadron that supports the Halo squadron ground attack team. At ease, gentlemen."

We stood with our hands behind our backs, and legs spread.

"This is the 6th Air Division's 66th Tactical Fighter Unit. Galm Team. Our two pilots in this Unit are Ustian Senior Captain Erich Voller, and Mercenary Lieutenant Larry Foulke. Our repair operations on base are carried out by Chief Mechanic Lothar Wolff."

The Army chief, a five star, stepped forward. He stared at my Eagle and walked over to the left, getting a full view of the battle damage. The Commander came back to the center and looked at all of us.

Oh shit. Here we go.

"Which one of you is Captain Voller?"

I took a big step forward, "Sir."

"I have something to ask you."

"Go ahead, sir."

"Our reports have stated you've shot down over 25 Belkan combat aircraft within the space of less than two months. How'd you do it? I don't honestly believe a kid like you could have accomplished such a feat, against arguably, the world's best air force. Would you care to explain to us how you went about doing this?"

"You kill, sir."

"What?"

"You kill without hesitation, sir."

"Well that's self explanatory. I mean what tricks do you use. Is that all you really do?"

"A moment's hesitation, can lead to darkness, forever. You can't hesitate. That's killed too many pilots. You never let any of them get away, even if they have a cripple limp. If you shoot them all down, they won't come back so quickly. They die over you. It's something you learn growing up in Belkan territory. You do whatever you can to survive, sir. If you have to throw away chivalry, or orders to do so, you do it. Of course, sir, you wouldn't know anything about this, since you were a peacetime suck-up lifer soldier, weren't you?"

Then the navy chief, a fleet admiral, stepped forward. "Captain, do you realize the implications of acting in such a insubordinate manner?"

"Of course I do, sir," I replied, still blank-faced, "I'm being honest. The truth is the most bitter fruit out there, and those who eat it often, are seen as such. The truth is reasonable. You ask my wingman, you ask anyone in Halo Team, you ask anyone in this volunteer group, you ask anyone in the 6th, they'll tell you the damn truth, sir. You kill, sir. It's the only reasonable answer."

"Well, your answers don't sound reasonable," the army chief spat back.

"Well sir, this unreasonable Captain who stands before you, happens to be your best combat pilot, with the most kills ever in supersonic combat. Whether, you like it or not sir, you need me. I will continue to kill until this is over, sir. And I will not compromise myself, sir, in order to kiss your dirty boots." The Army and Navy chief just scowled at me. "If you want to leave and not have me do this, sir, I would not be against it. I leave that up to you."

The Marine chief then stepped up and walked over to me, "I think I do want you to do this, son."

The Air Force chief then came over as well, "I agree with General Cartwright. I think it is in our best interest that we have your judgement, Captain Voller. Your experiences would greatly benefit the choice we would make."

"Thank you, sir," I said in surprise.

The Army and Navy Chiefs looked like they were about to let off a ten-kiloton warhead go off.

"Fine, Cartwright," the Army chief responded angrily, "Have it your way, but I'm only giving you 24 hours. No more, no less."

"I think 24 hours should be enough, Tressler," Cartwright calmly retorted, "And Admiral Walker, you should keep your nose out of this. From what I heard, the Navy doesn't even give a damn about this project anyways."

Admiral Walker's lips twisted at that remark, and the Army and Navy Chiefs stormed off, heading somewhere. Marine General Cartwright then turned and held out his hand to me.

"You're acting a bit fiery today, Captain."

"Only when I have to be, sir" I replied as I shook his hand, which was surprisingly small.

"I think you'll do well for us, Captain. I'm Air Marshall Halsey."

"Well met, Marshall. Since we have little time, do you mind taking me to the planes?"

"Absolutely Captain," Halsey replied kindly.

I headed out of the hangar, with Lothar in tow carrying some of my gear along with the ground crews to get me started up. We headed down the line to the two prototypes.

"You're free to pick whichever one you want to fly first, Captain," the Marine Corps chief bellowed.

I looked at the two birds, and quickly decided on the menacing looking YF-23.

"I'll take up the 23 first."

"Alright Captain," The marshall replied.

The 23 was a long bird. This prototype, only one of two built, was painted black to fit its namesake of the Black Widow II. It had a low V-shaped tail, where the tailplanes would actually move based on a pilot's input. While it did not have the YF-22's thrust vectoring, It was still very maneuverable, even if it slightly lagged behind the 22.

Lothar popped the Widow's canopy open and hooked on the ladder, as the crew got to doing their final preparation checks. Lothar then handed me my helmet. I took off my crusher cap, and handed it to him in exchange. I strapped the plastic helmet on, and lowered the visor. I climbed up into the bird, and buckled in. I got a feel for the controls, and it felt quite comfortable and familiar immediately.

"Bird feels good, Marshall."

"It should, most of that is out of a F-15. Some of the gear parts are from an F-18 as well."

I laughed, "That explains some things. Well, I'm off then. I'll try to get an idea as soon as possible."

I closed up the canopy, and started the General Electric turbofans. The engines rumbled to life, and I gave the wave-off signal to remove the chocks and equipment. I started the Widow down the taxiway and put her on the end of the runway.

"Tower, this is Galm 1, call-sign Widow Flight. Requesting take-off on runway two-seven."

"Roger Widow Flight, you are cleared for launch."

"Galm 1 copies, proceeding with launch."

I throttled the engines up, putting the throttle lever into afterburner range. The Black Widow rocketed forward, and easily got me up in the air. I leveled the Widow off at about 25,000 over the base. I sat silently as I pushed the bird around doing some basic maneuvers. I then picked up a friendly radar signature coming up on me. I thought about who it could be. Then I realized, there could only be one.

"You thought I was just going to sit back there while you played with the toys, eh buddy?" I heard over the radio.

Of course.

"Pixy, where are you?"

"Right next to you."

I looked over my shoulder to my right, and saw Pixy flying right there. He was in the YF-22, and gave me a thumbs-up from the cockpit. I just shook my head in reply.

"What do you say to a little friendly competition, Pixy?"

"I'm up for it, let's give these new blood-hawks a real test. Are the bigwigs down there fine with it?"

"I'll check, Pixy," I said as I adjusted the comm., "Tower, we want to perform combat simulations, are the higher ups alright with this?"

"I'll look into it for you, Widow Flight."

"Thanks."

In the meantime we did some more intensive combat maneuvers to pass the time. I got a feel for the bird's handling, and the Widow, to my surprise, was a pretty good plane. The engines were incredibly powerful, and it made the bird into a human-piloted, inter-continental ballistic death machine. The handling was pretty smooth, and wasn't choppy at all. Pretty much every Osean-built plane typically had that trait. I was genuinely pleased with it. Northrock had made a plane for the ages.

"Hey Cipher, how's that bird handling?"

"Pretty good, actually. I kinda like the damn thing."

"This Raptor isn't too bad. Lots of techie-stuff in here, though. I feel like I'm inside a damn computer."

"I know what you mean. I'm going to check with the Tower."

"I copy, Cipher."

"Tower, this is Widow Flight. What's the status on our request, over."

Nothing.

"Tower, this is Widow Flight, please respond."

"This is the tower, you are cleared for combat simulation. The only request from Command is that you keep it over base, Widow Flight, so that if there are any problems you can get down ASAP, over."

"Roger Tower, initiating simulation, over."

We lined up opposite of each other in the sky. We were ready.

"Alright Cipher, game on!"

We throttled at full blast past each other, and I went into a climb on super-cruise speed. I rolled over, and pulled back on the stick. Pixy's initial movement had put him lower than me, so I went on the chase. He turned to my left in response to my dive, so that I overshot. I cut the throttle and turned hard after him. Pixy though, had already reversed and was coming head on at me. In response, I quickly put the Widow back into a climb. Pixy was quickly back on my tail, and was pushing me. I needed to get away from him, quick. I made an Immelmann turn, and put the engines on full afterburner. And this is where I had the advantage. Even though it was a small difference in speed, it was enough to pull away from him.

I have to make cuts at him. I can't win a turning battle, I thought.

I climbed high into the late morning sun to the East, and lost Pixy. The Raptor was sitting at about 17,000 feet, and I was above him at about 30,000 feet. I readjusted so I could come down right on top of him. I dropped into a dive at about a 50 degree angle of attack. Pixy hadn't reacted to the initial move, so I managed to close in even more. He had no idea I was coming. I closed within sidewinder range, and made sure the master arm was off.

"Pixy you're dead."

"Wha… oh. Good flying Cipher. Should of seen that coming."

"Yeah, that attack is rule number one in the book. I think we should get back to Earth."

"Sounds good to me."

We banked low and right to set up to land on the valley approach.

"Galm 1 and 2 here, requesting permission to land runway 9, over."

"Roger Galm Team, you are cleared to land."

I lined up the Widow, lowered the flaps, and cut the throttle back. The Widow slowly descended, and I was right on the money for the soft back-wheel touchdown. I pushed the stick forward, and the front wheel made contact. I looked back to see if Pixy was there. He wasn't.

"Pixy, this is Cipher. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, something's messed up."

"What?"

"Engines flamed out when I lowered the thrust for landing. I'll only get one approach."

"Roger Pixy. Tower, you got that?"

"Roger Galm 1. Emergency crews are on standby, over."

"Just take it easy, Pixy."

"I will. Wait. I got another warning light going off. Oh come on! Really, now?!"

"What's happening now?"

"Oxygen system is going haywire, the computer's losing it, and everything else that's electronic is basically quitting right in front of my eyes. Probably need to put this thing down now."

"Really? Just maybe?"

"Ah, shut your big mouth Cipher," he said with a laugh, "I'm coming in hot, tower."

Pixy immediately put the YF-22 on approach, and the Raptor made its way down. He had a safe touchdown, and managed to stop the flying deathtrap. I turned back to my own business and put the Widow back where I found it. The Air and Marine Chief were already there waiting for me. I popped the canopy, and I took off my oxygen mask.

"How'd it fly?"Marshall Halsey asked.

"Better than the other one, apparently," I said motioning in Pixy's direction on the runway.

They looked over at the stopped Raptor on the runway.

"Is he alright?"

"Yeah, Pixy just had an engine flame-out, an oxygen system failure, and a million other things happen on his landing approach. Just might be a problem."

"I suppose that answers our question then," Marine Commander Cartwright said, "Thanks for the help Captain Voller."

"Anytime."

The chiefs walked away in the direction of GHQ. I hopped out of the Widow and gave my helmet back to Lothar. He gave me back my crusher cap, and I centered it on my head. Pixy joined me on the walk back to the team hangar.

"That thing almost killed me!" Pixy yelled.

"Well, at least that helped make the decision for them, anyways," I said indifferently.

"Hey! Are you even listening?" he said as he punched me in the shoulder, "Don't make me do that anymore!"

"What?! I didn't make you do shit! You came up after me, you jealous hot-rodder!"

We both had a good laugh at that.

Then and now you have to have a light heart towards death, or you'd end up drinking with him rather quick. That's a golden fighter pilot rule. Don't know which number though.

**AN/:Well Cipher had a alright day in the end. Those desk jockeys can't hold him down! Hope you all have a kick-ass day, and I'll see you next time!**

**Karaya 1**

**Glossary: (aka, What? This is still a thing?)**

**Peak/Crusher Cap: Basically a commissioned officer's dress uniform hat. The Crusher was mainly pioneered by the Prussian Army in WWI where the lining holding the hat up was taken out, so it could be 'crushed' and worn comfortably under a Stahlhelm. If you want to see what one looks like, just google Manfred von Richthofen. Most pictures of him have him wearing one.**

**Can Lead to Darkness Forever: Reference to a line said by Ace of Aces Erich Hartmann. Actual quote: "One second of frivolity during a mission can mean forever darkness."**

**Military Merit Cross: Based an Austro-Hungarian Award. Equivalent to Germany's Knight's Cross Award.**


	6. Chapter 6: Nothing Is True

**AN/: What the hell was up with that outage? I was going to post this earlier today, but of course, the site has to go and crash itself. Anyways, here's Chapter 6.**

**EDIT: I've changed the rating from this story from M to T, mainly because the added stuff I could do was actually harming the story. So, if you've read this before, the chapters have been edited for language and some of the more graphic things.**

Ch.6 Nothing Is True

-April 26, 1995 Valais AFB 1400 hrs-

"We've made our decision, based on our findings, and the advising done by Captain Voller," The Chair of the Joint Chiefs, Army Commander Tressler addressed to the reporters in the conference room.

Pixy and I were standing in the back of the room behind all of the cameras and news reporters, arms crossed, and looking rather indifferent to the whole proceeding.

"You betting they're going to pick 22?" Pixy whispered in my ear.

"Well yeah," I retorted back confidently.

"How much?"

"Two rounds for everyone, at the Jet Wash."

He held out his hand, and I shook it.

The General picked up a piece of paper handed to him by Fleet Admiral Walker.

"The Joint Chiefs awards the production contract for the ATF competition to the YF-22 of the Lokhill aeronautics corporation for producing an extremely maneuverable aircraft. The engines will be the new Pratt & Whitney YF-119 engines, due to their simplicity and durability."

We couldn't help but giggle a little bit at the engine part.

"Guess I win Pixy."

"Yeah, Yeah, whatever."

The room cleared quickly shortly after that. Commander Tressler and Admiral Walker completely ignored us as they walked out of the room. Marshall Halsey came over to us not long after.

"It seems your input had no effect on them, Captain. I tried to tell them what had happened with the Lieutenant's engine and oxygen system failures."

"It's fine," I retorted glumly, "I half-expected it anyways. I'm just disappointed the Widow is cut. I was hoping I could fly one of those birds in future."

Halsey smiled and went over said a few things to General Cartwright I couldn't make out. The Marine General nodded as he got on the phone and headed out of the room. The Marshall came back over to us.

"Well, Captain, you just got your wish."

"What? You mean?"

"The Widow is your's now Captain."

My jaw had gone through the floor at this point. I had just gotten the greatest present in the history of the world.

"I can't even…."

"It's alright Captain. General Cartwright and I agreed that you and your crew would take good care of the Widow. The Allies' best pilot needs the best plane, and its only right if it's the one he prefers, after all."

"Man, Pixy! This is real!"

"Congrats, Cipher. You earned that bird."

"Thank you Marshall," I said saluting, "But what about the dead Raptor?"

"I think your mechanic can probably get that thing up and working somehow. We can't really take it back with us anyhow, so we'll leave it with you here at Valais," he said with a small smile on his face as he looked at his watch, "Well, time for me to get back to the Pentagon in Oured. Good luck to you both. I don't think this is the last I'll hear from you."

Marshall Halsey jogged out of the room to catch up with the rest of the Chiefs for the ride home. I was rooted to the spot. I just could not believe it.

"I think this is my best day since I've joined, Pixy, or at least close to," I quipped with a huge smile.

"At least it's for a good reason! Let's get the plane towed back to the team hangar, and then I'll get you those drinks, eh?" he yelled as he ran outside.

"Yeah, you better!" I said chasing after him.

-Two weeks later May 5, 1995 Approx 1630 hrs.-

"Alright people, let's get this started," General Chennault boomed from his podium.

I was in the briefing room with Pixy, and Halo squadron. We now had our first sortie since Tiger went down. It was time to get back to the real business.

"Later today, the Osean 122nd Airborne Division will launch an offensive into Solis Ortus, officially dubbed: Operation Varsity. They will land in three designated landing zones, running along a valley in the mountains. However, these areas have high concentrations of enemy AA guns and SAM's. We need Halo squadron to provide Close Air Support and take out the enemy positions to make the landing zones safe for our boys."

"Consider it done, General," Buzzard replied, oozing confidence. The Usean pilot had really stepped up his game after Tiger went down. The Usean knew he needed to be his best to keep his wingmen alive.

"Good. Galm Team will provide will provide air cover for the transports, and for Halo as well until the operation is complete."

"Ok, General. Am I clear to use the new bird?"

"Command has given the all clear," the grizzled General said with a grin.

"Yes!" I yelled happily, high-fiving Pixy.

"That's all. Operation will commence at around 1800, so you will need to launch immediately. Dismissed."

The respected general received a room full of salutes, and he gave a small one in return. We grabbed our gear, and headed out to the flight line.

As we walked to the team hangar, everyone around us just stopped and stared at us. They saw me, a 20 year old Ustian killing machine, the highest scoring supersonic ace in the world, right in front of them. They were just now starting to realize it. The black-leather flight jacket just helped me play the role of the clever leatherneck, just a little better.

We reached the team hangar, and I called the Halo squadron over to come see the new plane. It was covered with a tarp, so I could surprise them with the new look.

"This it, bro?" Lobo asked.

"Yup, you're all going to love what I did to the new girl."

I yanked the tarp hard, and it flew off the Black Widow II.

"Wow!" Vixen said completely in awe.

"Now, that, is a plane," Zero remarked.

I changed the coloring to a bright red, and I added to it with my own personal touches. Under the cockpit I had painted a white Knight's Cross with a Silver border, and inside the cross in black lettering it read 'Teufel' or Devil. The tailplanes and wingtips had been painted in the same fashion as my Eagle but this time they were painted white. Finally, near the rear of the fuselage I had written in white, 'Kriegst mich nicht!' or the Belkan equivalent of, 'You can't catch me!'.

"Well, that's what I want a fighter plane to look like," I remarked looking at the monster.

"I think those guys are going to target you even more now, Cipher," Rainman pipped in.

"Good! Bring them on. Means I won't have to go and find them," I boomed, a wide grin growing on my face, "Well the airborne isn't going to wait for us! Let's get going, Scramble!"

Everyone ran off in different directions in a frenzy, as I waited for Lothar to attach the ladder so I could get in. Lothar quickly hooked it on the right side of the Widow's cockpit and helped me get in. I took my place in the saddle, zipped up my flight jacket and buttoned up the collar. I buckled up the multiple-point harness, and started my pre-flight checks. Lothar unhooked the ladder and then called,

"Erich! Catch!"

I looked to my right, and I saw my black and gold flight helmet flying towards me, at a dangerous speed. I quickly snatched it out of the air, and threw my grey officer crusher cap back in return. "Gluck Auf!"(Good Luck) I heard him yell as I closed the canopy. I strapped on my helmet, and finished the electronics systems check. I started up the General Electric rockets, and gave the cross-drop. The gear and chocks were removed and I was on my way.

I felt so happy. I was in the pinnacle of modern fighter planes. Me, a small farm-town boy from Ustio was flying a unique plane that no-one else was ever going to fly in combat. I felt immensely proud, but at the same time my gut kicked in. I was also flying a totally unproved, and barely tested airplane. As the Widow headed down the taxi-way for takeoff, I hailed Pixy.

"I'm nervous about this plane Pixy."

"Ah, don't worry Cipher. Just be patient out there and she'll hold up. Hopefully."

"Crossing my fingers, Pixy. Buzzard, are you guys rolling yet?"

"Roger Cipher. We're right behind you."

The Widow slowed to a halt at the end of the runway.

"Tower, this is Galm 1, requesting immediate takeoff, runway 27, over."

"You are clear for launch Galm 1," the tower responded in the usual fashion.

I gave the turbofans the juice and the Red Widow stormed down the runway and vaulted into the air. The damn thing made 35,000 feet in less than 10 seconds on full burn.

We formed up about a mile away from Valais and continued on to Solis Ortus.

-May 5, 1995 1900 hrs-

We arrived at Solis Ortus armed and ready for some heavy lifting. We were the only units in the air besides the 122nd's C-130's. We were in front of the formation of Hercules as Halo took up their position in front of us. They were first in on this operation, and had to perform perfectly to complete it without any losses.

"Buzzard to all units, commencing attack, over."

"Roger Halo 1, Galm Team is standing by,"

The XL's dispersed as dove for the turf. The squadron immediately launched Mavericks on the first group of AA guns in the valley and it immediately wiped them out.

"First target area's out of commission," Vixen called.

"Roger," Buzzard said, "Moving on."

They moved on to the next area. The C-130's were now entering the drop zone, and released a flurry of paratroopers in their wake. It was an unreal sight.

"They're some brave guys, those Airborne troops, I'll give them that," Pixy said.

"Yeah, no way I could do that."

The IFF then starting squawking.

"We got company," Eagle Eye called for the first time, "Several fast-movers. Looks like they are on intercept course for Halo team. Galm Team, find them and destroy them ASAP."

"With pleasure," I retorted.

I pushed the Red Widow higher, up to about 37,000 feet and on super-cruise to get to the fast-movers.

"Pixy you got a visual?"

"Negative….Wait! Positive ID! Got seven falcons closing in at 10 o'clock low. Another wave behind them probably about 10 minutes out. Looks like a group of Tigersharks."

"Roger, Pixy. Who you want to play with?"

"I'm on the 20's. You take the 16's."

"Alright, Disperse and Special Weapons are green."

"Copy, engaging targets."

I turned the bird and put the Widow on the six o'clock high of the Falcons. I moved directly over them and rolled the 23, and pushed her down at about a 75 degree angle of attack. I throttled up in the dive and switched on the master arm. The 16's were flying in a V formation, so I decided to hit the lead elements first to scatter the lower ranks. I locked up my AMRAAMs and let four Slammers loose from the pylons. The missiles screamed towards the Belkan fighters and the number 1, 2, and 3 planes were immediately out of commission. The fourth had made an emergency maneuver and was redirecting the other planes up against me. But, by that time I had climbed back up, and was out of sight.

"Buzzard! Update me! How's it shaking?"

"We're good. Almost done with second target area. Should we engage optional targets?"

"Negative! Save the ordinance! The airborne will take care of it."

"Roger."

I had the Red Widow back up at about 27,000 feet, and I repositioned for another sweep. They were already climbing back up to meet me, so I decided to meet the Falcons head on. I was already diving at Mach 1.4, so I knew they couldn't catch up once I passed through their formation. They were organized in a box-4, where they were aligned vertically and horizontally next to each other, so that any plane could split off and engage a passing target.

Clever Belkans.

I locked up the sidewinders and readied on the trigger for the Vulcan. As soon as I entered range I let loose with cannon fire, and managed to bag the top-right bogie. I let a staggered salvo of two sidewinders out and got the top-left and bottom-right bogies. I only had one left to play with as I zoomed through the remains of the formation. The last Falcon was already on my tail and pushing. Cannon fire was already coming at me, thick and fast. I decided to gain more altitude since I knew I could outrun him. I throttled up and hit 85 degrees, max climb. The burners were giving me all the juice I needed as the Falcon slowly started to fall behind. I reversed and dove down after him, but he saw my moves and did the same, but now I had him. I closed the distance to him, and held my fire. He was weaving all over the place. I knew the missiles wouldn't be able to get him, so I had to close in even more. I throttled up and I was sitting about 300 m off his tail. The guy wouldn't give up though, and still was giving me a hard enough time just to stay on his tail. Left, right, left, down, up, left, right. All over the damn sky.

"Pixy, sit-rep."

"I bagged my birds. How's it going?

"Got all of them except one," I said making another hard left turn, "This one's giving me a rough time. Mind distracting him a little?"

"Sure, I'm en route."

I kept on the Falcon as I saw Pixy's Eagle closing in on my rear-view. He accelerated past me, and dove low and right to try and get the Falcon to chase. The Belkan took the bait and was caught.

"Fox 2!"

My sidewinder snaked out from it's internal holding bay and scored a direct hit. I climbed in formation with Pixy to 35,000 feet.

"Double E, how's it looking?"

"Ground targets are history. Halo's RTB-ing as we speak. We do have another flight of fighters inbound coming from the North."

"How many?"

"Looks like four of them," the AWACS controller sounded off.

"Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Think so, these signatures are different than the usual grunts. Keep your eyes peeled."

"Roger Eagle Eye, moving to intercept."

We banked right and headed due North to intercept the bad guys. I looked down at the radar screen and almost saw myself back in B7R. I recoiled at the thought, and immediately called Pixy.

"I think it's another one, Pixy."

"Another what?"

"Ace squadron."

"You serious?"

"Yeah. They look similar to the B7R readings we got for the Rot squadron."

"Well, it's good thing Halo's already out."

"You said it."

We continued on, and eventually got close enough for a visual. Four Green F-18's coming in hot, at 12 o'clock low, about 20,000 feet.

Oh, brother!

"That's Grun! Just our rotten luck!" I yelled beating my fist against the canopy. An angry scowl grew on my face. At this point, I thought, enough is enough! "Let's show them they picked a fight with the wrong guys!"

"You got it Cipher!"

We dove down to met the Hornets and went at them without any mercy. They scrambled and went in all directions. I went after the lead and gave him no room for error. The Hornet was struggling to keep away from my Widow's gun, and eventually it found the mark. I streaked the tracers up the fuselage and cut the engines out. The pilot quickly bailed. I immediately climbed, then reversed and stall-dived to start a cutting attack. I managed to grab the number three which had followed me up, with a Slammer. I quickly turned off to the right and went after the plane on Pixy's tail, the number two. I closed in on him and gave him a radar spike. The Green Hornet quickly dove out of the way, and I gave chase.

"Six is clear."

"Roger. Thanks."

I continued the chase and kept the pressure on the Hornet. I closed in using the same method as I did on the number one.

The gun was the be-all and end-all.

I opened fire at the golden range, about 300 meters, and gave him a full flurry of 20mm hail. The Hornet rocked and swayed with the fire, and eventually was enough to get him to spiral down, and out of control. Pixy had gotten the number four, and the skirmish was over. We had now bagged two entire Belkan Ace squadrons.

"Not bad for a day's work Pixy?"

"Cipher, if it keeps going like this, we're going to be immortals. I can see it now, us two, in the pantheon of the great pilots."

"That's the only thing I'm afraid of," I said with a laugh, and Pixy laughed right along with me. "Eagle Eye, are we clear?"

"Roger Galm 1, all targets are confirmed destroyed, you are clear to RTB, over."

"Roger Eagle Eye, we're going home."

I checked the rear-view mirror to see if death was riding there. He wasn't. Not today.

**AN/: I know this chapter wasn't as long as the previous ones, but it's really leading up to what should be my longest chapter so far. The Liberation of Directus is going to really play a large role in how Cipher acts the rest of the war. As always, R&R and see you next time!**

**Karaya 1**


	7. Chapter 7: A Reaper Is Born

**AN/: Guten Tag! Here it is, the Liberation of Directus is finally here. This chapter was particularly hard for me to write, but very rewarding for me personally to complete. Erich's first real test is today. Decide for yourself if he passes it or not. Enjoy.**

**EDIT: I've changed the rating from this story from M to T, mainly because the added stuff I could do was actually harming the story. So, if you've read this before, the chapters have been edited for language and some of the more graphic things.**

Ch.7 A Reaper Is Born

_Yeah, though I fly through the valley of the shadow of death... I fear no evil ... for I fly the biggest, baddest, meanest, fastest fighter in the whole valley._  
><em>-Anonymous-<em>

-May 13, 1995 approx 1700hrs-

No sooner had we gotten to the ground, did we learn the liberation of Ustio was to be the next day. Operation Constantine. The airborne had opened a huge hole towards Directus, and the fruit was ripe for the picking. We were immediately briefed and launched at noon on liberation day, and were anxious to get the job done. Especially Vixen and myself, being Ustians, wanted our homeland out of the battle-zone as quickly as humanly possible, so the carnage would no longer able to harm our families.

We were flying in formation at 35,000 feet en route to Directus from the South following the Crescere River. Pixy and I led the group, and Halo Team was a few hundred meters behind in a finger-four. Vixen and I had painted big Ustian flags on the underside of our planes, so that the people on the ground knew we were at last, coming home. The great black, red, and white flag gave me a sense of pride, mainly in myself, and my friends. We had turned this war around, and soon my home was going to be free again.

"Finally, we're doing it Cipher," Vixen said over the comm.

"I know, it's been too long already. It's going to feel good when this is done."

"Alright everyone, this is AWACS Eagle Eye. I've marked the targets on the scope. The assault will commence shortly, at 1715."

"Roger Double E. Preparing to engage," I said as I toggled the master arm, as the weapons board lit up in front of me in the Widow's cockpit. "Alright, to keep each other safe, we're going to split the forces up. Vixen, Zero, Rainman, you're with me. Buzzard, Lobo, you're with my pal Pixy over there."

The planes re-organized themselves in the sky, and I was now leading a finger-four formation.

"Target are aligned right along the river, and in the city center," I said looking over the radar layout.

"Roger," Zero called, "Want us to engage separately?"

"That's an affirmative," I said looking out in front of the Widow, just catching the skyline of the city, "Gives the gunners a harder to hit target. You guys go nuts, and I'll keep the fighter cover off of you."

"Don't slack off, Cipher," Rainman said stoically, "This shit is getting serious. We're going to need your help."

"Really, only now? Just do your job Rainman, I got ya."

About a mile out of Directus, I gave the call for watch synch.

"Alright, ready for mark. 3, 2, 1, mark!" I clicked my watch and we were now ready. "For Ustio!"

A chorus of yells came in over the radio, and the three grey XL's around me split off to begin their attack runs.

"Eagle Eye, keep me posted on any fighter movement," I called setting my radar for wide range.

"Roger Galm 1, we have something coming in now. Looks to be at your two o'clock, two fast-movers."

"Galm 1 copies, engaging."

I banked right and went after the fighters. As I closed in, I saw the bogies were Mig-29's. I grinned.

Upgrades.

I jinked back on the stick, trying to draw the fighters up after me, giving them a flash of the Ustian flag. They immediately responded by coming after me and launching some of their long range ordinance at me. I continued to climb, the altitude marker on my HUD flashing by at a ridiculous rate. I eventually cut the speed-brake, and the widow shuddered to a halt. The Red Devil then silently fell, and turned to meet the Belkans coming right at it. The gun made its grumbling voice heard, and managed to strike the leading Mig right in the intakes, and put it out of commission. I stormed past the second Fulcrum as he reversed to keep on the chase. I rolled and pulled into a High-G Immelmann turn and was already facing his guns once again. I let a sidewinder go out of the internal bay, and the 29 was quickly vaporized.

"Targets down, Eagle Eye. Sit-rep on operation, over."

"Roger Galm 1, ground attacks and operations are proceeding smoothly. We're also picking up enemy transmission reporting that a HVT is egressing from the combat zone in a Chinook. Location assumed to be near the city center."

"I copy, I'll check it out."

I banked to the right and lined up to pass right over downtown. I had only been to downtown Directus once before. I was 5 years old, and my father and I went to go see the old Dom, which towers high over the city. It's one of the few old symbols of medieval Ustio still standing after a thousand years. In that chapel lies the most famous bell in the whole country, the Freedom Bell, and little did I know it was about to ring for a long time today.

I picked up my monocular from my cubby to the left of my seat, and sighted it. I started scanning Directus from East to West to see if I could catch sight of the helicopter. My eye passed over the main skyscrapers, and towards West side, I saw the double-rotored copter high tailing from the capital. I quickly put the scope away and engaged afterburner to go after it. I selected my Slammers, and put myself right behind him, coming from the East. As soon as I entered range, I let one out, and it darted towards the little speck in the distance. After about three seconds, it made impact, and the Chinook lit up like a firework.

Wonder what the hell they had on that thing, I thought as I wiped my visor off with a cloth. "HVT is down, Eagle Eye."

"Eagle Eye copies, good work Galm 1. We are picking up a emergency request from the ground forces. There's a Warthog strafing the troops over in the hills on the North-East side of town. Can you intercept?"

"Roger Eagle Eye. Are there no other aerial threats on screen?"

"Roger, Galm 1. Scope is confirmed clear, over."

"Galm 1 copies all, proceeding to intercept."

The Warthog was raining depleted uranium lead over some Osean Abrams tanks in the rolling hills. It was rather unopposed in its attack run.

I quickly changed that.

I gave the Widow the juice and performed a Split-S turn, and I was right behind the A-10 in an instant. I fired my 20mm cannon, and managed to score some hits on the bird, but he quickly reacted, turning off to the left, and going low, to try and draw me to the dirt and out of my comfort zone. I didn't give him a chance to do so. A Slammer was released and sent the Warthog down into the Crescere with a big splash.

"Warthog's down, splash one."

I then heard the bell from the Dom ringing loud and clear. The people were fighting back, finally. I could see from the air the Belkan ground troops retreating, chased by mobs of Ustians. They were starting to take over some of the Belkan hardpoints downtown. I made a pass over the city, and I could see them cheering up at my plane. I rocked the wings in reply, and did a barrel roll over the center of the city at Barkhorn square where the capital building was. There was a huge crowd gathered there.

"Hey Vixen! You done?"

"Yeah, we just mopped up, what's up?"

"There's a huge group of Ustians at Barkhorn square, want to make a team pass over?"

"Uh, yeah! I'm coming right now."

She formed up on my right wing, and we leveled out at about a thousand feet to make the pass over the square. We came from the south again, and throttled up right as we hit the edge of downtown, making a sonic boom. The big marble square in the center of town finally came into view.

"Pass then burst!" I ordered

"Roger!"

We gave max power as we passed over the square and the thousands of people in the square were on their feet. We then turned off in our respective directions, and climbed hard into the burst maneuver. The crowd was having a ball. But then, everything changed.

"Galm 1! Eagle Eye here, I'm picking up two more planes on the scope. They're coming in hot from the north, heading 340. Keep your eyes open, Galm."

"Shit! Buzzard, get Halo out! Now!" I shouted over the comm.

"I copy! Guys let's get to the rendezvous!" Halo's number one said as he got his wingmen into formation.

Vixen quickly split off from me, and Pixy immediately took her place.

"Ready to roll buddy?"

"You got it," I said looking at the radar, and I was seeing small specks moving fast from the radar signatures in our direction as my missile alert was going off. Those were long range missiles, and that meant they had some serious firepower, and some serious wings.

"Halo, you better be moving! I'm counting several missiles coming your way!" I ordered.

"I know Cipher, I hear the warning!" Buzzard snapped, "Get your asses in gear guys! We are leaving!"

We easily avoided the missiles with a quick climb and roll over the projectiles. I was livid. How the hell did they miss these bogies? The battle zone was supposed to be clear!

"No use in thinking that way Erich", I muttered to my self as I readjusted my visor and gave myself a knock on my helmet, "You didn't get this far complaining."

We kept on and eventually the Belkan fighters were in view. They were SU-37 Terminators.

"Let's roll," I ordered.

"They picked the wrong guys to mess with!" I heard Pixy reply.

We dove from our vantage point and launched the attack. Directly over the two birds, I fired my gun at the tail plane of the formation, but I made a rare mistake and missed.

Get your head together, Erich!

I dove left and low. I pulled hard back on the stick to climb and keep on the chase. Right as I completed my turn I saw one of the Terminators come right at me, and fire his gun straight into me. A few rounds streaked into my wings, and he quickly climbed off to my right, but at that moment I saw the markings clearly on the Terminator. Yellow lines on the wingtips and tailplanes. This was Gelb squadron, no doubt. One of the best units Belka currently had deployed on the Ustian frontline. They had hundreds of combat sorties, and many kills between them. It was going to be a fight to the death.

I stamped on the brakes and pushed the Widow hard in pursuit. I kept the power on to get up close and personal on him. But then the Terminator unveiled a trick he had up his sleeve. I saw a missile come right off his pylons and straight back at me, with no turn. I was forced to dive under him to avoid the missile.

"Pixy, these guys have reverse-mounted missiles. Be careful!"

"I gotcha buddy!"

I climbed again, at almost a 90 degree angle to tail him again. I launched a Slammer, but again it didn't hit the mark as he rolled and leveled out above me, right as the missile was about to reach him. I closed the gap again, and just as before he fired another reverse mount. I barrel-rolled quickly and the missile shot just over the Widow's belly, and luckily didn't explode at the engine. Guess those heat-hiding stealth intakes saved my life. He dove low and was heading back in the direction of downtown and into the city's skyline. I didn't let him out off my missile lock, and followed him through the buildings. I could hear the roars of the crowds in the streets.

They were cheering….. for me!

An uncontrollable grin appeared, and I howled with joy. I had him! I had this guy!

I soon closed the distance between me and the Gelb, and put him right in the hot seat. I kept my missile lock on, and frequently took shots at him with the cannon to make sure he didn't get away. We were all over the sky, turning ever which way, and it was a merry spectacle.

"Pixy," I shouted while going through another hard G-turn, "You still good over there?"

"We're jousting back and forth. It's…"

I heard a loud knock over the radio, and I was immediately punched out of my placid state.

"PIXY! Talk to me!"

"I'm…ok, buddy."

I turned again after the Terminator, not trying to be distracted by the conversation. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. Worry about my wing-man and talk to him, while flying against one of my toughest opponents.

"How bad?"

"Bad enough. I need to go back."

"Alright, just make sure he doesn't get you when you ex-fil."

"That shouldn't be too hard. He's already peeled off and is heading your way."

"Shit. Oh well, at least you're not too bad."

"Yeah, take care of yourself, buddy."

"I'm not dead yet."

"Then make the most of it. This is Galm 2, I'm leaving the combat zone for the rendezvous, over."

"Eagle Eye copies," I heard the AWACS call as we passed through the city's skyline again.

Now I had both to play for. This would be a moment to define myself.

I went to the afterburners as we went out of the city again, into a high degree climb. I let loose with a sidewinder, and the little missile was determined to recompense for all the planes that fell at that Terminator's hands. The Gelb turned hard to my right out of the climb, but this time he had jumped too early. The sidewinder followed him cleanly through the maneuver. I saw the white contrail make it to the Belkan fighter and impacted off its left wing. I came up right behind the wreck as it spiraled out of the air, and a ejector seat rocketed out of the bird's brain.

Right at that moment, as I relished the kill, I looked in the rear-view mirror. Death was right behind me today. The other Gelb had seized the opportunity. He had gotten on my tail and fired his cannon straight and true. The shots penetrated through the Widow's hull, and a ricochet of one of the cannon shots went right through my left elbow.

"Oh crap! Crap, crap, CRAP!"

I couldn't control my muscles as I slumped forward against the stick. I slowly glanced over at my left arm, and there was a hole right in the middle of my elbow, about the size of a quarter coin. The Widow was falling rapidly at about 600 mph, and I knew I had to get back up. The pain was absolutely excruciating. Every inch I moved, felt like a mile. I rammed myself up in the ejection seat. I grabbed the stick tight with my right hand, and centered myself to get in-line with the HUD. Right at that instant, I lost all of the feeling of pain and of fear. I was ready to finish this fight. The other Gelb Terminator was circling above me at about twenty thousand feet at my 7 o'clock. I screamed in pain as I forced the Widow over that in direction. The girl wasn't going to let me down, and I wasn't going to let her down. I couldn't let my friends down. I couldn't let Pixy down.

The Gelb was clueless to the fact that I was even still up. In a strange coincidence, my misfortune was a great benefit. I turned the knob for my missile salvo setting to jettison. I was going to fire everything I had left at him. He would have no idea what him. I closed in. I was going to fire as near to him I could. I was only about 2000 feet out when I depressed the button for the missiles on the stick. Three Slammers shot out from the internal bay, along with a single sidewinder. The Gelb finally realized his plight, and desperately tried to evade, but it was too late. He managed to avoid the first Slammer, but the next one erased the space where his engines were. The Terminator went into a flat spin, where the next missile impacted into the nose. The cockpit then detached, and moved up and over the fuselage. The last missile, the sidewinder, then finished off the airframe at the rear. Right where the cockpit was now was gliding over. The warhead exploded, catching the remaining fuel alight, and it shattered the separated cockpit into pieces. In an slowed frame of time, I saw the body of the Gelb, of a fellow pilot, vanish in the explosion, right before my eyes. It was a haunting sight.

I leveled the Red Widow at about 32,000 feet out over Directus. I detached my oxygen mask, and turned my head up to the heavens, where the night was beginning to show itself. I caught glimpses of the stars, and I cried. I wasn't crying tears of joy. I was crying tears of sorrow. What I had done had been deserved, but in my mind it was also cruel. To die in such a way was a true evil and misfortune. I didn't want to die like that, my body erased over some wasteland. I didn't want my name to come home in a letter to my family as M.I.A. or K.I.A.. It was at this time my mind shifted. I no longer wanted to kill. Shoot down, yes. But blatantly kill, no. I was angry for what they did, but I would of done the same thing in their shoes. We were all people. There was no reason for all this.

I popped my visor up, and I wiped the tears from my eyes with my right hand. The adrenaline was starting to wear off as the pain from my left arm came rushing back. It hurt. Oh god, it hurt.

"Eagle Eye can you hear me?" I called quietly.

"Yeah Cipher. I hear you."

"I just wanted to ask something, what's your name?" I asked solemnly.

"Huh?"

"I never heard what your name was. I never really ever thought to ask before."

"Oh. It's Ed. Lieutenant Ed Rodgers."

"Good to meet you Ed. I've been shot through the arm, and I need to get back. Is Directus safe?"

"That's a roger, Cipher. Ready to go home?"

"More than ever. I need a rest."

"You sure as hell earned it. I'll catch you later."

"See you around Ed."

I banked the Widow to the south, and I headed back to Valais. I formed up with the guys about 15 miles out of the city. Halo Team were quick to voice their congratulations. None of them had heard about what had happened to me.

"Dude! You kicked some serious ass, man!" Lobo shouted with glee over the radio.

"Yeah!" Buzzard called, "You showed those Belkan pigs the what for!"

Pixy slowly positioned his Eagle back in formation next to me, and immediately saw the damage.

"Cipher! You okay? Are you hit?"

"There's a good size hole right through the bone and the muscle in my left elbow, it's clean though, I think. Not much blood. It's kind of weird that I can stick my finger through my arm now."

"Erich! Are you ok?" Vixen said her voice quavering.

"Yeah, it's just a little war wound."

"Damn it Erich! That doesn't sound like nothing!" She shouted angrily.

"Well, let's just get home alright?"

We all hit the throttle and got on our way.

-Later that night May 13, 1995 2300 hrs-

"Jeez! Take it easy Lothar!"

"I'm trying!" My mechanic spat back as he helped me out of my harnesses. Everyone was gathered around the Red Widow. They were all trying to see what had happened to their invincible ace. Lothar finally got me out of the saddle and, this surprised me, he carried me out of the plane by himself. He got me over to the waiting ambulance and helped the medics get me into a litter. "That better?"

"Yeah," I jided with a small grin, "Thanks."

The ambulance sped off to the field hospital on opposite side of the runway from the hangars, which now that I saw it up close, it was huge. The medics rushed me inside. As they rolled me to operation, the head doctor came over, some some spook called Dr. Richter, and after a look at the wound, told me I was going to need amputation. I was going to lose my left fore-arm and most of the elbow. I was really angry, I kept shouting at them to find a better alternative. I tried to get up multiple times from the litter to try and make a run for it, but they kept pushing me down onto the litter. I kept asking for them to find some other way, but Richter shot all hopes down. He repeated that it was too late, and the infection was going to be fatal if it wasn't done. I had no choice. I tried again to fight back, but they knocked me out with anesthesia.

-Several hours later-

I opened my eyes, and I was blinded by the bright lights of whatever room I was in. Well not a room, it looked more like I was in a hangar. I readjusted myself in the cot, and lied back with my right arm and left stump, which was in a sling, above the covers. I realized I couldn't twiddle my thumbs anymore.

"Just when you had the going good Erich, you fool. You just, HAD, to find a home in the Air Corps!" I muttered angrily to myself.

I looked over to my right at the nightstand. On it was my black-leather flight jacket, and my uniform. I could see the holes in the middle of the left sleeves on both of them. I winced at that. All around me I could hear voices, but I couldn't see where they were coming from since there were blinds surrounding my little area.

A couple of minutes later, Richter came back in. He pulled up a chair at the front of my bed and sat down. I looked around again at the blinds and shook my head. Guess being invincible was a priceless image for the troops.

"How are you feeling Herr Hauptmann?"

"Not too great, considering you just chopped my arm off!" I shouted angrily.

"Please Herr Hauptmann!" he quietly replied back, "Keep your voice down, there are many others here who need rest desperately."

I gave myself a mental slap and asked, "I'm sorry, Doctor. How many do you have here that you watch over?"

He sighed. I finally got a good look at him. He had a pale, oval face, and extremely white hair, that surprisingly hadn't fell out. It was neatly trimmed. He took off his thin rimmed glasses, and stared right at me with his green eyes.

"About 350."

"What? I had no idea there were this many here at Valais," I replied quietly.

"We are over-encumbered by the load. Unfortunately, right now, with Directus still considered on red alert, we are the only confirmed safe location for the Ustian wounded. The hospital is desperately low on supplies, we haven't had a restock in two weeks. We barely had enough medicine and gear to save your life."

I let out a deep breath.

"Thank you, Dr. Richter. I apologize for my behavior earlier. I can only imagine what you have to go through everyday. And please call me Erich."

"Your welcome, Erich. I have some people here to see you. Are you up for some visitors?"

"If it's my squadron mates, then yes," I answered giving a sly smile.

"Alright Erich, I'll let them in."

He quietly went through the dividing curtains again, and I heard a voice in the distance say, It's alright. There was a chorus of boot steps pounding in the ground, and they quickly made it to me. Pixy came through first, and told the others to wait. He grabbed the chair at the front of the bed and brought it over to the right side of the cot, and took a seat. He looked over where my left arm used to be, and winced.

"You alright, buddy?"

"I'm not dead yet."

I held my only hand up and he grabbed it.

"Good, we still have a war to finish."

"I doubt they're going to ever let me up in the air again," I moped, "Guess my days are finished here."

"Hate to disappoint you, but you're going to be back in line soon. There's no reserves left. We are all the Ustians have got. I heard they're getting a new interceptor squadron together, but they won't be ready for another month. So, you're still in command."

I sighed, "When's the next operation?"

"You're not going to like it."

"Just go ahead and tell me. I hate people hiding things from me."

"About three days."

"WHAT?!"

"Yup. The invasion of Belka has already begun. They sent in the Stratofortresses a few hours ago to hit the border defenses. "

"Mein Gott," I muttered.

"Well buddy, I'll leave you now. The others really want to see you."

He quietly walked out and the gang came in, immediately shocked by what they saw. I gave them a whole description of the dogfight, and what had happened at the field hospital. They were amazed at what I had survived, and they weren't the only ones. A newspaper from Directus had been forwarded to us by some of the ground crew, and it was the latest edition of the Ustian Belde. The front headline read,

DER ROTE USTIAN TEUFEL(THE RED USTIAN DEVIL)

Underneath it was me in the Red Widow destroying the last plane of the Gelb. The article talked about the whole operation from the people's perspective. Several citizens had said that I was the greatest Ustian hero ever. I chuckled at that, and I tucked it under the covers of my bed. We chatted for a few more minutes, and eventually they all said their goodbyes and left to get some shut-eye. Except for Vixen.

She sat in the chair where Pixy was before. She silently stared at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," she stammered, blushing ever so slightly.

"Come on, Vicki, something's bothering you."

"Nothing's bothering me, you should be more worried about yourself."

"I'm fine. I'm all fixed up now. I'll be flying within the week."

"No you're not, you lost an arm! You could of been killed! There's no way you can fly now!" she stammered and shouted at me.

"So you were worried about me!" I chuckled.

She sighed, "Yeah, I was. So what? We watch out for each other. That's what we always do. It's the creed."

"I know. Today really tested me. I even cried after it was all done."

"Why?"

"We've tarnished this world with conflict. The world's foundations are set by conflict. Without war, our modern society can't exist. It just pains me that we need war to change things now. It's like that old saying, Osea's always been at war with Yuktobania."

"Yeah. It's a shame Erich. You'd think these countries fight for real reasons, but in the end it's all a game. They throw our lives away for things that will never affect out lives. It only affects the top guys, who make money off our blood."

"We're forced to fight our former brothers. I can't stand the thought. Some of my friends who I flew with as a kid, could be on the other side of me in the air, and I'll never know it."

"Unfortunately Erich, there's nothing we can do about it. We even volunteered to do this work."

"I didn't volunteer for this hypocrisy. Well, I'm done talking about that. Depresses the hell out of me."

"I know, you didn't get this far complaining," she softly laughed as a small smile appeared on her pale face.

I looked over at Vixen and she was just looking at me, and I was just looking right back at her. Her blue eyes were as bright as the summer sky, and were remarkably clear. She had grown her blonde hair out a little and had it in a pony-tail now, and it looked nice on her. I smiled at Vixen. She smiled back.

"Do you mind staying? I'm still a bit on edge." I asked her.

"Of course not," she said as she held onto my only remaining hand.

I lied back in the cot and closed my eyes. I needed to get some sleep. It was only getting worse from here.

**AN/: There you have it. Cipher's not coming home the same. I took a big step in making him different from the other Ciphers people have put out there, and I'm really satisfied with it. Thanks to everyone for 200 views! And a special shout-out to Wardog1 and laZardo for their reviews. Thanks for the encouragement guys! ****Anyways, I hope you liked it, please review, favorite, and follow! **

**Glossary:**

**Dom: German for Cathedral. **

**Barkhorn Square: Reference to Gerhard Barkhorn, the second most successful ace of all time, who scored 301 kills on the Eastern Front with the Luftwaffe during WWII. He also flew with "The Black Devil" himself, Erich Hartmann.**

**You had to find a home in the Air Corps!: A reference to a recurring joke in Battleground(1949). The line goes,  
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**"[while being bombarded by German artillery during a driving blizzard] **

**Holley(played by Van Johnson) :We've had good deals before, but this is the best one yet. This is great. I don't ever wanna go back. I found a home in the army."**

**Osea's always been at war with Yuktobania: Reference to the famous line in George Orwell's_ 1984_. "We've always been at war with Eastasia."**


	8. Chapter 8:Understanding Shadows

**AN/: Guten Tag! Karaya 1 reporting in with another chapter. Enjoy!**

**EDIT: I've changed the rating from this story from M to T, mainly because the added stuff I could do was actually harming the story. So, if you've read this before, the chapters have been edited for language and some of the more graphic things.**

_"I fly close to my man, aim well and of course he falls down."_

_Hauptmann Oswald Boelcke, The Father of Modern Air Tactics and Combat_

Ch. 8 Understanding the Shadows On the Wall

-May 14, 1995 Valais Air Base Field Hospital-

I woke up in my cot with Vixen still asleep at my side. She had her head on the bed, and the chair was scooted up to the right of the bed, so she could do that. My flight jacket covered her back.

I shook my head, and tried to push myself up. Doing so with one good hand was really hard. I almost fell off the bed twice. After about ten minutes of pure struggle I was sitting up on the left side of the bed. I firmly planted my feet on the ground, and stood up. It felt nice to be on my feet again. I walked around to the right side of the bed, and I saw my uniform lying there on the nightstand. I picked it up and tried to put it on, but to no avail. My pants were a disaster lying around my ankes, and my shirt was an equal loss. I could barely get the first button finished.

"Shit," I said quietly, "That's annoying."

I continued to try to get my stuff on, but I was making enough noise to where I woke Vixen up with my stumbling.

"Urhh?" she grumbled as her eyelids popped open. She looked up at me and recoiled in shock. "Erich? Aren't you supposed to…?"

"Probably. Don't care though. We have a sortie in three days, and I need to get reacquainted with the Widow, since I have this," I said as I pointed to my half of a left arm. "And, I kind of need some help. With this."

"Oh, here. I'll help you put it on."

She walked behind me, and pulled my pants up so I could fasten them. She then came around to the front of me, and helped me button my dress shirt. She then took my jacket off of her back and threw it over my shoulders. It felt nice and warm. I could almost go back to sleep. She then got my shoes, and helped tied them for me. God, am I helpless, I thought to myself.

"That better?" she asked with a feint smile.

"Yes," I sighed, "As I much as I hate to admit it, I'm totally helpless now."

She laughed softly at that, "Let's get you going then, shall we?"

"Yeah, I think it's time to go."

I tightened the jacket around me, and stepped out into the world, out of my hidey-hole, to see a new truth. All around me were wounded soldiers, lying on cots, from wall to wall in a big tiled hangar. Some of them had it much worse than I did. Burned off faces, missing legs, endless comas were all at home here. It absolutely appalled me. The stench was the worst part, a intermittent flood of alcohol, blood, rotting meat, and straw all rolled into one. The tile floor was covered in excrement, literally. Vixen just hung her head in shame as we walked between the cots. The soldiers all stirred when they saw I was there. They rose up from their woe and cheered for glory and future victories. I held my hands up in thanks.

"I thank you for your kind words, because I am in you shoes now," I said as I rolled up the left sleeve of the dress shirt and my coat to reveal my stump, "I know I must keep going, and I will, for you all. To be able to survive this horror, is beyond me. You all should have won my Cross, for this kind of bravery is greater than all others. Unfortunately I must go, but I will return, for all of your sake's."

The wounded that could manage to sit up could, and saluted. I returned it firmly, for the first time in my life. I wasn't fighting for glory, freedom, or the Fatherland. I found something to fight for. I would fight for them. It boggled my mind that these men were abandoned once they were wounded. I wanted to give them some hope that they would recover. I hoped my situation would give them strength to do the same as I did. I would be their symbol.

I walked out of the hospital to a chorus of cheers. There was a single chant that started to rise among the wounded.

"Er ist der Rot Piloten! Er ist! Er ist!"(He is the Red Pilot! He is! He is!)

I smiled at that. The fact that I inspired them, gave me a great sense of pride. I turned back to face them one last time at the door of the big infirmary. I gave them another salute and said,

"As your Red Pilot, you are my Gryphons! The most powerful of all the creatures, masters of land and air! Remember brothers, when I fly in the heavens, I fight for you!"

A sounding 'Huzzah!' came back to me and I gave them a wave. We headed outside back into the cruel world of politics and war. Back into a perpetual meat grinder, chewing every man to pieces.

"They are the strongest men I've ever seen," I said to Vixen as we were now outside in the frigid air of the mountains. The frigid winds felt good for once in my life. I thanked God for having been born with legs. Losing a limb makes you thankful for that.

"I know. I could hardly imagine what their days are like," the fellow Ustian responded, and she brushed her blonde hair out of her eyes.

"Be glad you don't have to."

"I am glad, trust me!" she said with a laugh as we headed over to the Galm hangar. We actually crossed over the huge tarmac runway on our way there. On foot, it seemed like the widest road ever created. How small it seemed from a bird's eye view.

We reached the hangar, and Lothar was busy filling holes in the Red Widow's fuselage. As we headed inside of the team hangar, I noticed a new addition to the Widow. Under the cockpit was a big golden number 40, surrounded by golden oak clusters, sitting behind my white Maltese Knight's cross.

"What's that Lothar?"

He turned to the sound of my voice and dropped his kit. He ran over and gave me a big hug. I gave him a big one in return.

"Mein gott(My God), man, I thought you were a goner after I heard about the amputation. How bad is it?"

"Not bad enough to stop."

"Well, that's a relief. I was worried about who I was going to give this bucket of bolts to if you were gone."

I slapped him on the head as he walked back to the Red Widow laughing. He stood next to the golden 40 with a great sense of pride.

"It was my idea, like the markings of Schnitter's and Mesuitz's 109's. I figured you would like it."

I came over and took a good look at it. I smirked at that number. 40 kills! I was almost at Schnitter's record of 60.

"I do like it, thanks for holding on for me, you clever son of a gun!"

"Eh, the shit I have to put up with you!" he said as he patted me on the back.

I turned around to find Pixy and the rest of the Halo guys there standing alongside Vixen. The rest of the them looked relieved. The bags under their eyes illustrated their lost sleep to me. They came over and I received a lot of hugs and sympathies. I was grateful for them, and I decided to repay it. This idea had been lingering in my mind ever since the Futuro incident when we lost Tiger. I felt I had a duty to protect my friends, and I felt this option was the only way to guarantee that.

"I've been thinking, guys. And there's something I want to do."

"Huh?" Buzzard replied, his brow furrowing, "What are you talking about?"

"I want all of you to be put in Galm."

"Why? Isn't it fine now?"Lobo retorted.

"Yeah, but I don't want anyone pulling rank on me in the future, and pulling you guys away from me."

"You have a point," Zero quietly spoke, "The more this becomes a joint operation, the chances of that event occurring increases. If we all operate together in the same unit, we should be better off, and more independent."

"You ok with it, Pixy?"

"I don't see any harm in it, what the hell, why not?" he spoke with a warm tone.

"So we all concur. Come on. Let's get it done."

Fifteen minutes later, it was official. Chennault cleared the five members of Halo squadron to officially enter Galm Team. Buzzard would still command the second echelon, but I still held ultimate authority. I was happy with this development, and they were too, since they got their new flight jackets to match, and we would share the hangar. I was happy that I could spend more time with my friends.

* * *

><p>-Next Day May 15, 1995 0830-<p>

I was in my room in GHQ. It was nice to be alone for a little while and catch up. I finally got back into my light reading, Dante's Inferno to be exact, which I was really enjoying. I had filled out my flight log from the beginning of the war up to this point, which I had decided to neglect. It took me about 5 hours to do it, and I went an extra mile to document the entire sorties, with ordinance expended, and planes shot down. The count matched the 40 Lothar had painted.

Thank god, I thought, If he had to do that again...

There was a loud knocking on my door.

"Come in, it's open."

Pixy came storming in, panting heavily.

"Pixy? What the hell's going on?"

"The chancellor! He's…here!"

"What?!"

"You heard me!"

"Christ!" I said as I bolted up from my cot, and attempted to get into my uniform.

"You are one helpless guy, you know that!" Pixy snickered as helped me put it on since I was still struggling with getting clothes on by myself.

"Shut up!" I remarked back as I put my crusher hat on.

"Come on!" He sprinted out of the room, and I followed him in hot pursuit. We rushed out of the front door of the headquarters into the barely-above zero weather. At least it was sunny, for whatever the hell this was for.

Eventually, I saw an orderly formation of everyone on base facing a podium over on the hangar line. On this podium, stood the Defense Minister Heinrich Graf, who had sent me my commission letter no later than a month ago. In person, he was rather short and frail, but had strong cheekbones, and face that looked like it was made of steel. His cold blue eyes pierced anyone who came to him. He wore a field grey marshall's uniform with a peak cap, and I absolutely stand by the fact that he was made for that uniform. I had no doubt many would follow him to wherever the fight was. Next to him was the Chancellor, Augustus von Lehmann. He was much unlike the stone-cold soldier that Graf was. He was rounded in stature and stood much taller than the Defense Minister. He wore a black suit, signifying his political stature, and it matched his matte black hair, that was clean cut and cropped with absolutely no facial hair. He fit his aristocratic name to the letter.

As I finally neared the procession, the base's personnel snapped to attention, and I was left in total shock. I had no idea what to do. I had never been in one of these ceremonies before.

Going to have to punt on this one, I thought.

I walked forward and turned to the left at attention to face the podium at its center. I snapped my heels, and produced a salute. The men and women behind me followed suit. The two men on the podium surrounded by armed MP's returned the gesture. I slowly walked up to the podium and climbed the steps to the haven of gods and generals. They were standing only a few feet in front of me. The men that ruled this country were right there. I gulped.

I saluted again, and then snapped once more to attention. One by one, Pixy, Buzzard, Vixen, Lobo, Rainman, and Zero, all came up to the podium copying my move. Vixen now wore a uniform similar to mine. I glanced over at her out of the corner of my eye, and I winked. She produced a smile winked back.

"Now, we can begin the ceremony," Graf boomed from the podium, "These brave pilots before me, the most gallant warriors of Ustio, have fought selflessly for our cause. They are here today, standing on this stage to be recognized for their bravery in the line of duty over our sacred capital."

Hell, I thought, for all of us, Ustio wasn't really our land. Vixen and I, technically speaking if you go by the dates, but the others had no link to Ustio at all. They were here for the money. Speaking of which….

"As a result of his actions over the skies of Directus, and for being the first supersonic fighter pilot to achieve forty kills," the minister continued, "Hauptmann Erich Voller has been promoted to the rank of Major, and is awarded the Military Order of Maria Teresa, the highest honor that Ustio can bestow upon a military officer."

The minister came up to me with a small black velvet box. He popped it open, and it revealed a little white Maltese Cross, with the Ustian flag in the center of it. The neck ribbon was black and white. He picked it up and folded the box away in his pocket. Graf held the medal up by the neck ribbon and I lowered my head. He slowly draped it on me, and it now rested on my shoulders. He held out his hand, and I took hold, and a rock hard grip greeting it.

"Good work Major."

"Thank you, Herr Marschall," I replied giving a salute.

He went down the line giving Military Merit Crosses to the rest of the group. Vixen was finally granted her honorary Ustian officer's commission as a First Lieutenant. She deserved it. After the medal pinning was done, I was instructed to show my plane to the big men. It was then I discovered, that I didn't like the Chancellor very much.

"Again I'm surprised Major, I did not expect you pilots to be so young, many of the great pilots in the air are much older than you," the Chancellor voiced with an air of arrogance, as we walked down to the far end of the hangar line. That alone was enough to inflame my temper, but I held it back.

"Flying teaches you two things, Chancellor. You must keep an open mind, and be very mentally strong. We young-lings have those qualities ten-fold over the normal pilots. It's how we survive."

"Hmm. I see your point," he spoke punctually, "I'm very eager to see this plane that I've heard so much about."

I could almost hear the grimaces of the rest of the guys, Pixy included. Something was definitely wrong or up with this guy. Even the Oseans weren't into this much play-acting. Minister Graf was surprisingly silent too.

"You'll see it soon enough," I quietly muttered to myself.

Eventually we reached the hangar, cleared of the normal crews. The Red YF-23 sat at the front of the hangar taking a well-deserved rest. She looked her best today, with new coats of stealth paint now coating her glossy wings. I smiled at the sight of her. The Chancellor was eager to hear about the plane, and he walked in front of me. The politician bee-lining towards the Widow, as soon as we reached the team dugout.

"So this is it, Major?"he asked walking up to the nose of the Red Widow. I stayed back at the entrance of the hangar, the rest of us including Graf were behind me, watching intently.

"Yes it is."

"What model is it? I've never seen a plane like this before!" he said as he reached to touch the nose.

"That's close enough!" I barked. He was ignorant enough to not see or smell the wet paint. That's definitely not a good sign. "There's a new coat of radar absorbent paint on her. No touching."

"Oh, I apologize Major," he said keeping up his strange eerily-happy facade. "So, what plane is this?"

"It's classified, to answer your question."

"Excuse me?" he responded as if I had insulted his mother.

"Uh, classified, as in, I can't say what kind of plane that is."

"Why not? I'm the highest authority of the Ustian government!" the politician affirmed, his temperament finally breaking through the strong facade, "I have a right to know!"

"I have not received any orders stating that anyone stationed outside of the base may know about the plane, sir. This plane here was issued by the General Staff of Osea themselves. They came in person to deliver it. So, again, it's classified intelligence, sir. You're too low on the international totem pole. In fact you should be grateful that you've even seen it in person!" I taunted.

"Major! You will tell me…."

"That's enough!" Graf finally interceded, to my relief, "I'm terribly sorry for the Chancellor's attitude. He's had a rough day. He needs to be headed back now, to Directus. I will meet up with you a little later Major. Dismissed."

We all snapped to attention, and the pair walked away.

I was so afraid of that going bad, that I fell to the floor in exhaustion. Pixy quickly rushed over and helped me back up.

"You alright buddy?"

"Yeah, this is getting weird, Pixy. The more this goes on, the less I actually know what's going on."

"You said it," Buzzard replied, "That guy's got some issues."

"Or someone's pulling the strings," Zero replied.

"What are you talking about Zero?" I inquired giving the unknown pilot a funny look.

"It seemed there were anterior motives for this visit. Whoever's running the show doesn't like whatever we have going here. We're dictating the pace of the war. So the puppet-master sent the puppet to gather info."

"Zero, how do you know that?" Lobo asked.

"Ask Rainman," the mysterious pilot answered.

"Rainman, what is he going on about? Do you really know what's happening?" Vixen questioned.

Rainman sighed heavily and stared at the ground. He was silent for a good minute, and he scratched his head. Then, he looked back up at us, and stared right at me.

"What?" I asked the Emmerian royal.

"I do know."

"Know what?"

"What's really happening."

"Alright then, Mr. Prince, " Buzzard cried, "Spill the beans for us, eh?"

"Ok. But we have to go back. To the Osean war, 50 years ago."

* * *

><p>As much as people might think it doesn't exist, royal influence is still pertinent to this day in the Belkan War just as it was before. There are several main factors that drove the Old Osean War forward. The Ralds that dominated Belka at that time were a collection of powerful aristocratic families, industrialist businessmen, and politicians, who are determined to eliminate foreign control in Belka. A good cause if you think about it, right? A country wants to control itself, and is tired of being manipulated. That's how the Osean War began. The Ralds drove a blade right through the world's hierarchy and forced themselves to the top by eliminating money and bond manipulation in Belkan businesses and markets. They also eliminated the Osean dollar as being their trade currency, replacing it with their own Belkan Marks. Osea, being the corporate superpower it is, can't have anyone knock them out global control and domination. So they went to war with Belka and almost lost. But, due to their manipulation of goods, resources, and money, they managed to win, and Belka was again subjected to Osea's iron fist.<p>

Fast-forward to now. The Rald party is back. They want to accomplish the same goal. Drive a wedge between Belka and the Osean interests and firms that really hold the axe above their necks. They're desperate for economic upturn to get them out and independent from Osean banking loans. So, what do they do? They use the exact same method as before. They use war as an economic weapon driving up employment and profits. They change over the trade currency and start isolating themselves in means of production. But what the Ralds don't realize is, is that one of their biggest allies is now against them. The Industrialists. They're now controlled by Osean economic interests, particularly defense and raw materials. These mysterious men are aptly named the 'Grey Men'. They can control Belka regardless of the war's result. So now, Belka's on the run again after early successes. Osea wants to stranglehold Belka once more. But this time, I don't think Belka will give up like before. The Grey Men will profit from either outcome of the war. Osean victory though, plays to their favor.

* * *

><p>"Jesus, Rainman," I said astonished, "Where'd you pick up all that?"<p>

"You can overhear a lot of things at royal social functions. World control is one of them. The fact that everyone wants to be included in the Grey Men's circle meant that they're common knowledge in affluent and powerful families."

"Then why'd you join up here?" Vixen asked, "You could of joined those guys and essentially ruled the world according to your story, right?"

"Yeah, it just wasn't for me. My father and I never got along well. He was in with the Osean faction, and disagreed with me over the whole situation. After all, he couldn't lose his bet. He had his name and fortune on the line over it. So, I left home when I turned 18, and I joined the mercenary air corps so it was harder to track where I had gone. Being a soldier without a nation helps."

"What was with your shitty attitude during training?" Buzzard crowed.

The knight frowned, "I was still angry over the whole situation. I knew at that point war with Belka would be inevitable, so I knew I could survive it, since I knew it was coming. Little did I know, the best pilot ever would be training right along side me."

"Rainman," I exclaimed with a grin, "You've won."

"What?"

"Against all of us. You won."

"Why's that?"

"You listen when others speak. You've earned your spot here a thousand times over with what you've told us. And," I walked up to him and held my hand out, "You proved our greatest fears to be correct. So, I'm sorry. For everything, all the shit we gave you."

He shook back. "I forgive you Cipher."

"But I still don't forgive you for Lobo," Buzzard threatened as he went to give Rainman a re-conciliatory fist-bump.

"I know. I still regret what I did that day. But, the forgiveness for our initial meeting is enough solace for me, Buzzard."

We all gave him a slap on the back as we headed back out into the sun's rays.

There was still work to be done. It was just better that we knew what was really going on.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Conspiracy! Intrigue! Well the Grey Men are finally introduced, with a new twist. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and next time you get to learn a little more about Erich's past. Hope to see you then, and have an awesome day guys!**

**And thanks to laZardo for another review!**

**PS: The Chapter title is a reference to Plato's Allegory of the Cave. You've never read it? Go do it now!**


	9. Chapter 9: The Red Pilot Speaks

**AN/: Guten Tag! I finished this chapter much faster than usual(due to me wanting this to be up, to round off the last of this section before the next sortie), and is officially the longest one I've done so far. Erich's past is coming into the light today, and we're going to learn a lot about him, and little about a certain group of flyers that play a huge part in world events for the next 15 years. I hope you enjoy.**

**EDIT: I've changed the rating from this story from M to T, mainly because the added stuff I could do was actually harming the story. So, if you've read this before, the chapters have been edited for language and some of the more graphic things.**

Ch.9 The Red Pilot Speaks

_The duty of the fighter pilot is to patrol his area of the sky, and shoot down any enemy fighters in that area. Anything else is rubbish._

_-Manfred von Richthofen(Der Rot Piloten or for you unsophisticated types the Red Baron)_

-May 16, 1995 Valais Air Force Base Galm Team Hangar 1000 hrs.-

I was back in the saddle of the Widow for the first time since I was shot down. It was really eerie. I had my black leatherneck jacket on, and I could feel the hole in the left sleeve. I shuddered at the thought of that fight.

"Hey, Erich, you ok?" the young but experienced Lothar called from his station at his equipment to my right.

"Yeah, just hard to put that night out of my mind, you know?"

"I understand, now let's keep going with the reaction tests ok?"

"Sure, sure," I quickly replied. These tests were a necessary pain. I had to be able to hit any button or switch within the cockpit within about five seconds, of course with one arm. The instruments on my far left, especially my non-stick throttle control, were really hard to get to. The plane was electronically 'dead', so we could test any of the buttons for the reaction time. Lothar had the Widow's computer hooked up into a simple desktop that would give an immediate signal when the button was pressed.

"Alright fuel jettison!"

That switch was at the right front side of the cockpit. Easy reach.

"Good, turbine start!"

Shit. That was over behind the throttle control to my 9 o'clock. I leaned to the left a little, and reached over with my right arm and got to the switches.

"Great! Good time, only 3 seconds! Alright toughest one, ejection!"

This was a pain. This Widow, for some stupid reason, had a left-side ejection seat release handle. I had to slump over in my seat, and turn about 90 degrees to face the left of the cockpit. I reached down with my right arm and quickly did a small pull on the black and yellow colored lever.

"Good, five seconds. I think that's enough…" Lothar trailed off as Defense Minister Graf came into the team's hangar, "Sir!"

He snapped to attention and saluted. The minister quickly returned the salute and looked over to me in the saddle. I didn't even bother to salute, and he didn't seem to care.

Fine by me, I thought.

"How's the arm treating you Major?"

"Alright, hasn't killed me yet," I chuckled.

"That's good. I'm sorry for the Chancellor's behavior earlier. He's…having some issues that I can't speak of."

"I haven't even thought of it again, Minister. Don't worry about it."

"Well," he said with a cheeky smile, "seems you are pretty much in shape here! Quite the Adler you have here."

"You got that right! She treats me pretty good," I replied patting my hand on the Knight's Cross on the right side of the cockpit, "What's up with the visit Minister?"

"I have a guest for you today, Major."

"Huh?"

"You came come in now," the Minister said as he turned around and waved.

A girl in a Osean WAC uniform came in, and stood over by the Minister. She looked like she was maybe in her mid-twenties. She had way out of regulation red-hair that went down to her shoulders. Her face was really small, and heavily tanned. She had dull green eyes, and looked to be about 5' 5" at most.

"This is Leutnant Kelly Haslo. She's with the main Osean military newspaper, Stripes & Paladins."

Now that's a stupid name, I thought to myself, unless you're a propagandist.

"She's here to interview you for the big front page story on Galm Team. She's already interviewed everyone else. You're the final member to be interviewed."

I sighed, "Alright, let's get it over with. Lothar come help me out of here."

"Right boss."

He came up the ladder to the plane, and helped me unbuckle from the seat. I put my right arm around his shoulder, and he pushed me to my feet. I took a second to right myself, and eventually went down the ladder.

"I'll leave you to it," the stout Minister said as he walked away from the hangar.

"I need to go to storage Cipher, I'll catch you later," Lothar called as he ran off.

"Sure."

That left me alone with the Osean reporter. If there's one thing I hate more than anything, it's a interview. Civilians just can't understand the pressure we're put under to succeed. If we fail, the whole world is affected. We sometimes have to make choices we don't like. It's part of the job. I took a seat over at the table with the computer on it, and beckoned the reporter to sit at a seat opposite of me. She took the seat and took out a audio recorder and hit one of the buttons on it, I assumed the record button. We were live.

"Now to introduce myself," the frail girl said as she held out her hand, "Kelly Haslo. You can call me Kelly."

"Nice to meet you Kelly, I'm Cipher," I replied as I softly shook back.

"I thought…"

"Just for the record, I don't want my name published. I don't want people chasing me down for the rest of my life to pester me about all this."

"Oh, I understand. Everyone else requested the same thing, except your wingman Larry Foulke."

"Really? That's surprising."

"Why do you say that?" Kelly said as she leaned back in her chair, "He said it was to preserve the record of history."

"Yeah. But sometimes history is meant to be undiscovered. Only the ones who are willing to look both ways through the looking glass will ever understand history. Only those people are worthy to know who I am. Those who are willing to listen to both sides of a story."

She smiled and wrote that down. "You have a good point, Major."

"Thanks. Where do you want to start?"

"The beginning if you could. I want to get an idea of everyone's background so that the reader can understand how all these different people came together to form such a successful team."

"Alright, well that would mean going back to when I was really young."

"What in particular?"

"Well my father was an Me-109 ace during the Osean War in the Belkan Air Force. He scored about 60 kills over the Southern Front. In fact, he actually fought over Valais several times over the course of his career. He was in the Air Force for about five years. He enlisted in '41 when he was seventeen. He lied about his age of course. After the surrender, he was captured in '46 and was in prison in Osea for about, I want to say seven years? Maybe until late '52 or early '53."

"That's a long time," she spoke as she continued to take notes.

"Especially in the hell that was your post-war POW system."

"How so?"

"The prisons were poorly sanitized, the POW's were forced into hard labors in coal mines, and the only possible way for anyone to get out was to injure themselves. That's what my dad did. He broke his arm around a telephone pole in the camp, and they released him a few days later. He walked home all the way from Northern Osea to my family farm in Belka, present day Ustio."

"I can only imagine how long the walk was."

"He hitchhiked, rode freight trains, anything moving he got on to get home. Took a good two months to walk those 500 miles. When he got back to Heinzhollen, he married my mom. I never knew her well. She died when I was only two."

"Was that hard for you?"

"I mean, I wouldn't know unless I could compare my upbringing with what it could of been. In my mind, I don't think so. My dad taught me a lot of good things, and he was hard on me. In a good way. He made sure I wouldn't grow up to be a brat."

"How did you get into flying?"

"Not by my dad's recommendation!" I chuckled. "There's a glider club about 5 minutes from where I live. Some of my friends invited me to come over and try it out. I loved it from my first minutes in the air. After enough talking and promising, my father relented and got me a membership so I could fly there."

"Is there any defining moment from then that you knew this is what you would be doing with your life?"

"Yeah, there is one….."

* * *

><p>-July 14, 1991 Heinzhollen Flying Club, Belka(Present day Ustio)-<p>

"Hey Hans! Get a new battery, this one is fried!" I called out to my fellow flying buddy as I was working away at my glider's insides out on the grassy field of the flying club.

"Ja, Ja! It's always this crappy plane that needs a battery," replied Hans Uleke, a fellow Aryan, blonde haired, blue eyed Belka. He was much shorter than me, but much more muscular. Hans's day-job was working in a cotton plant. He had to carry hundred pound bales of cotton over his shoulders. Hans could do it without even breaking a sweat.

"Ah, the Oseans can never build a plane anyways," I shot back.

"Really, who told you?" Hans retorted from the distance with a hearty laugh.

I went back to my work and got the old battery removed. Hans was already back and had the new one ready for me.

"Here you go," the stocky 16 year old said as he handed me the electric life.

"Danke schurn!" I said mockingly as I placed it in," That should do it. Let's get it of the runway."

"Yeah. I need to go do some work at home."

Gliders are extremely light, but fragile birds. You had to be careful with them. The long wings could easily catch something around you at low altitude, and the absence of an onboard motor(except for very expensive models) and landing gear essentially meant wherever you landed the plane, that's where you were stuck. But it was good fun, and required a decent amount of skill to perfect. We stood behind the massive wings on each side and pushed the plane off the main runway and off into the grass near the control tower. Some other guys were flying this one later so we left it where it was, since it was owned by the club. We walked to the main building which was adjacent to the control tower, and checked out with the desk adjutant, a 30 year old Air Force vet from one of the border wars, Christian Fleisch. He had perfectly trimmed brown hair, and brown eyes. He was in perfect condition, and was the perfect man to run the airfield. Everyone liked him, and if you talked him up enough, he would come give advanced flying lessons for you as long as you liked. For Free. I turned in my logs into them with today's new hours. Both Hans and I had gotten five hours of flight time, atypical for a day of a normal pilot at the club. But it was normal for us.

"You guys need to take a little time off," Christian smiled as he signed off on the hours, "Because you're catching up on all of us alte Manner(old men)!"

"Well, then you all need to get off of your asses and fly then!" Hans spat back.

"I wish I could Hans," Christian said with a frown, "The paperwork has been ridiculous as of late. Some of the other fields around here are trying to buy us out too. It's been a struggle to keep this place going. I wish I could fly soon."

"It's fine," I chimed in, "You will when you can."

We retrieved our books and went to the lockers to grab our bags. I unlocked it, and pulled out my wallet, car keys, and my pad for notes.

"Hey Erich you see that hangar over on the other side of the field today?"

"Ja, for the hundredth time! I always see it when we come down. What of it?"

"I think we need to go check it out. I've talked to Jens and Dieter, and they said no one's opened it in about forty years. We should go see what's inside!"

I slammed my locker shut and looked over at him, "Has it ever occurred to you some things are left unopened for a reason?"

"Maybe, but what would we lose it we went? Come on Erich, it will only be five minutes!"

I was tired of hearing him go on and on about it, so I relented.

"Fine, but only five minutes! Any more time, and I'm gone!"

"Sure, sure! Let's go!"

He sprinted outside back over past our glider. He bolted across the grass and I followed him as fast as I could. We looked both ways before we crossed the runway, and continued shortly after. After a few more seconds we were there. The hangar was old and very weathered and rusted. The thing was somewhat big, about thirty feet tall, and about a hundred feet wide. The hangar had definitely seen better days.

"What'cha think Erich?"

"I don't know, this thing's been here a long time."

"Yeah, I wonder what's inside?"

"Do I even need to repeat myself?"

"Come on Erich! Live a little would ya?"

I sighed and followed him over to the center of the hangar where the steel doors met. There was no lock on the door.

"Let's push, on three!" Hans pipped as we put our hands on the right-side door. "One, two, three!"

The door creaked and strained as we forced it open. After about twenty feet it loosened and rolled freely. We got it over to the far side, and turned to see what was inside. We couldn't believe it. There were two pristine Osean War fighters in the musty darkness. A Belkan Me-109 prop-plane, and a Belkan Me-262 jet fighter, the very first production jet-powered plane ever made. We were amazed at our find. I quickly ran over to the 109 and carefully climbed up on the wings. Under the cockpit was in small cursive print was a name, Tomas Völler. My father's name.

"Hans! This is my dad's plane!"

"Are you kidding me?"

"No, come look!"

Hans hopped up onto the Messerschmitt's wings and came over. He gasped at the name. "I never knew your dad was a Messer pilot!"

"Yeah, he told me not to tell anyone. Is his name on the 262?"

"No. There's no markings on it at all."

"Oh well, that would of been too good to be true," I sighed. I opened the 109's canopy, and on the seat of the plane was a full pilot kit. Leather helmet, parachute, portable oxygen system, and the best part, the flight jacket. I picked up the old flight jacket off the seat and dusted it off. It was a heavily worn brown color, and had no patches on it at all. The only sign of who it belonged to was on the front of the jacket. The squadron insignia, the red jaguar, was painted on the front under the left breast, and underneath it scribbled in a black print of some sort was 'Schnitter Ein'(Reaper One). That alone was enough to almost make me feint. Reaper One was a legendary pilot, who until now, was unidentified. He was the Ace of Aces against Osean powered craft and considered to be the best pilot to ever take to the skies, even though there were higher scores against the Yuktobanians to the West, that were assisting Osean Forces in the fight. "Hans! My dad is Reaper One!"

"I can't believe it! We hit the jackpot!" Hans cheered.

"What are you two doing in here?" a familiar voice echoed in the hangar.

We both looked out to the light and saw my father standing there, Tomas Völler, who we now knew was Reaper One. In '91 my dad was 66. He had lost his trademark blonde hair, which had faded to a distinct dark grey. His eyes were an abnormal green, but it didn't stop him from looking any less intimidating. Wearing a blue pair of overalls, and a black baseball cap, you'd have no idea he was a ace combat pilot. He never spoke of it to anyone besides me, and even though he told me of his experiences, he beat into me I should never repeat the stories he told me.

"Are you…"

"Yes, Erich. I am," My father jutted in.

"Why did you never tell me?"

"I was afraid it would only increase your desire to leave to fly in the Air Force. But, even without it you seem to be on that path," he answered staring towards the ground with a gloomy face. "Come here Erich, there's something I need to tell you. Bring the jacket with you. Hans, you probably need to head home, correct?"

"Yes, Mr. Völler," Hans answered plainly as he sprinted out of the hangar.

"Good," Reaper One smirked.

I walked up to my father and stood in front of him. He honestly wasn't a very imposing figure, but he had the look in his eyes that he was a truly great man. He always had a sixth sense for understanding how I felt.

"I'm sorry, dad."

"No need to be son, it's good that you're curious. Never lose that feeling inside of you to find more in the world. It's what makes us different than everyone." He took the jacket from me, and looked it over. "Ah, Schnitter! I remember Ralf giving me that name." But then his face changed, a wave of sorrow overcame the normally stoic pilot. He was definitely holding back tears. "Erich, I will only say this once, so listen closely. I don't want you to fly in the Air Force because of what happened to me. My… friends were all shot down by the war's end. I don't want that same thing to happen to you. It's the most soul destroying thing to be alone. But, don't think I don't want you to be happy. If flying is where you must go, then so be it. Just don't go and enlist on me. You'd break mine, and your mother's heart, if she was still alive."

"Can I keep the jacket, dad?"

He looked over it one last time, this time with a open mind. His face warmed again, and he chuckled softly.

"Yes, you can son. I think you'd honor their memories wearing it."

So, we walked out of the hangar, and closed the steel door together for the final time.

* * *

><p>-Present Day Valais AFB 1215 hrs-<p>

"Wow, I had no idea that your dad was Reaper One!" Kelly exclaimed as I finished my story.

"Yeah, that old jacket is still in my room here at the base. It's the one I flew with, up until I was given a new one when I was commissioned as a Captain. I figured at that point it was time to make my own name."

"So, where's your father now?" the Osean redhead asked.

I looked around the hangar to see if anyone was watching.

"What? Something wrong?"

"What I am about to tell you is not to be repeated to anyone so I suggest you turn off that recorder."

"Ok, ok," she replied as the recorder chimed off. She put away in her bag that was under the table. "Hit me."

"He's dead."

"Well that's not entirely surprising," she retorted.

"But it's the way that it happened. That's what I need to tell you."

"What happened?"

I looked around again and I saw Lothar coming back.

"You ever been flying in a combat fighter before?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"I think it's time we take a little hop. Lothar!"

"Ja, Erich?"

"Get the Falcon ready."

"Erich you can't be serious! You need more time to be ready!" the mechanic argued.

"I'm sick and tired of everyone saying I'm not ready! Just do it Lothar! Aren't the others coming back soon?"

"Ja," Lothar answered.

"Then I'll be their escort. Come on, I haven't flown the Falcon in 2 months."

"Alright you hard-head. I'll get it ready," he rushed off out of the hangar barking orders to the ground crews to roll out the old girl.

"What's the Falcon?" Kelly asked.

"It's the plane I grew up in, basically. The one I started flying with."

A tow car finally appeared with the old grey F-16D, the two-seater, wheeled behind it in all it's glory. The old war-bird had the same red jaguar painted under the front seat. It was still it's normal grey, without any roundels or ID markings. The mercenary training birds were always off the books. The organization that put all of the merc pilots under its wings, Ploesti, made sure that if we were shot down, no one knew who we were. It was a good insurance policy. The Falcon was armed up with an air-superiority load of my typical sidewinders and slammers. I never deviated from that. It was my refined taste. "Well, are you ready miss Haslo?"

"I guess so," she laughed.

"Lothar will help you into the flight kit and the G-suit. It'll feel a bit tight, but that's how you want it."

I walked over to the F-16 and vaulted up into the cockpit. I booted up the electronics and did a quick surface check.

"It feels good to be home," I said aloud. I looked back over my shoulder and Kelly was decked out in the Galm flight kit. Even with the out-of-reg hair, it actually suited her well. "Is it a bad thing to say that you actually look good in that?"

"I don't know," she replied as she got in the instuctor's seat behind me, "If you're messing with me maybe, but I don't think you are."

"I'm not."

"Well then, thank you. Guess I have to go flying with you more often," she snidely remarked.

My face reddened slightly, but she couldn't see it. At that moment I realized I was having some trouble with my flight helmet. I could get the damn thing on, but I couldn't strap the oxygen mask onto it's clip on my left. The strap just wouldn't lock. It didn't help my right arm was twisted in the weirdest position.

"Come on, you piece of crap!" I yelled.

"Erich what's wrong?" Lothar asked as he climbed up the ladder to me.

"I can't get this strap to lock," I muttered as I continued to fail at it, eventually straining my muscle. "Ow! Damn it!"

"You need some help?" he replied.

I sighed. I guess I better be humble from now on. He's going to have to help me with all of this. I hate having someone help me with everything. "Yeah," I grumbled. He quickly hooked it on with no problem and got my seat-belts on. He bolted down the ladder, and took up his position just outside of the left-wing's reach.

"We good Lothar?"

"She's ready!"

"Roger, I'm sealing us in." The canopy slid down over us, and snapped shut. We were in the glass tube now. "One thing before we go up," I hollered to Kelly as the engine howled to life, "Don't worry if you have to throw up, I did many a time the first time I went up in this. Just grunt hard in the turns, and you should be ok. If you need it there's a bag in a pouch to your right."

"Ok, let's go!" she called over the roar of the engines.

I gave the signal for the cross-drop, and the gear around the plane was removed. I gave a little juice to the jet, and we were on our way. The little Falcon rolled down the taxi-way and I put her on line for takeoff.

"Tower, this is Galm 1, requesting permission for takeoff, over."

"Roger, Galm 1, good to hear you're back. You are clear for takeoff runway 27, over."

"Galm 1 copies all. Ready back there?" I saw a thumbs up in my rear-view mirror. "This is going to hurt, be ready!"

I pushed the throttle to max power, and we were rolling down the runway at speed in no time. I gently pulled back on the stick and we were cruising into the stratosphere. I put the Falcon up to about 30,000 feet onto a CAP circle over the base. I flipped my visor up, and gazed into the afternoon sky, full of bright hues of blue, and small wiry cirrus clouds. I switched off the radio, and settled back into my seat. "We have about an hour before the guys get back, so now's the time to tell my final story. You ready to hear it?"

"Yes, I'm listening."

"This happened in the last year, during in the Reconquista war in Sapin. The other guys, Buzzard, Vixen, Lobo, Rainman, and Zero, were shipped with our instructor to fight with the Condor Legion, a group of volunteers fighting with Loyalists to keep the monarchy in Sapin….."

* * *

><p>-July 7, 1994 Neuve Calibra, Sapin-<p>

I was flying escort that day for a bombing run near the small town of Neuve Calibra, on the northern side of Sapin. I was flying this very Falcon that day. The other guys were who I was escorting on the sortie. We were tasked with taking out a munitions factory that was smack dab in the center of the rural village.

"Alright cubs!" My instructor Viktor Andrianov growled in his very thick Yuktobanian accent from the backseat of my Falcon, "The target will be in sight in a few minutes, get your attack pattern lined up and ready. I won't be waiting for you if you waste your time!" A chorus of nervous "Yes, Sir"s came in over the radio. Then he turned his attention to me. "Alright Cipher, you got point on this op. Even though we expect no fighters doesn't mean there won't be. Keep your eyes glued to the horizon and the sun. I have a feeling we won't be alone in the skies today."

"You got it, Boss," I replied confidently. Yeah. This monster's callsign was 'Boss'.

"Good, just remember what you learned and you'll be fine, Cipher."

"Roger, Boss." I pulled in front of the formation of F-16 XL's, the very same ones they still fly, and hit the gas. The guys followed suit and we sped to Nueve Calibra. About 2 miles out, we dropped out of the super-cruise.

"Alright Buzzard! You lead the run!" Andrianov barked.

"Yes sir, this is Volk 2, beginning attack run," the Usean nervously called out.

"Good! The rest of you follow suit!" Andrianov ordered.

"This is Volk 3, beginning attack run," Vixen called on the comm.

"This is Volk 4, beginning attack run," Lobo replied.

"This is Volk 5, beginning attack run," Rainman blurted.

"This is Volk 6, beginning attack run," Zero quietly reported.

"Alright arm your UGBL's and start the attack, don't be worried about the AA fire, only move if there's a missile lock, got me?" the instructor cooly rattled off. The mics all clicked in unison, as the XL's dove for the green hills of Sapin. Nueve Calibra was in the center of a small valley of the hilly region of Campo Verde. It wasn't well situated for a ground defense, but for aerial defense it was perfect. A pilot would have to come down to attack right into a kill zone below 5,000 feet, and the rebel gunners on the ground knew it. The crew's planes were immediately met with tough resistance as they dove towards the factory. As the run began, the guns opened up on my friends. The flak and machine guns lit up the sky with hot lead. But they pressed on. They kept going, closer and closer. When they were right on top of the factory, they dropped the payload, and the factory was wiped clear of the map. Viktor and I hooted and hollered over the radio.

"Now that's an airstrike!" the Yuktobanian commented.

"Hell of a job guys!" I cheered.

But then the day went to hell in a hand basket. My IFF was bawling at me like a baby, and I took a look at the screen. Eight fast-movers coming in from the North.

"Boss, I'm picking up eight fighters on the scope."

"Roger, Cipher, I see them! Volk 2 through 6 exfil immediately," Viktor calmly ordered.

"But Boss, you have an eight-on-one!" Buzzard cried out, "You'll be dead meat!"

"I don't care Buzzard, you get them home safe!" I yelled at my friend.

"You sure you can do this?" he asked.

"I was born for this moment," I replied.

"Alright, go get 'em. Volk 2 heading out."

"Good luck Cipher, Volk 3 retreating," Vixen worriedly called.

The rest of them left. I was alone in the sky with the enemy fast approaching.

"You know what to do, Cipher! This is the final test!"

This is a test! I thought angrily to myself. He's nuts! But I knew I couldn't run. I had to fight.

"Roger Boss." I pushed the Falcon up to about 35,000 feet, and waited to pounce. I was right in the sun to keep the enemies unaware of my presence. As they closed within a few miles, I caught sight of what the planes were. F-15C's grouped into two finger-four formations. This was going to be…..fun. As they neared the town, I took the opportunity and dived straight for the leading formation locking them up with the AMRAAMs.

"Fox 3!" The missiles fell upon the four unsuspecting Belkans, and wiped them out before they had a chance to react.

"Very good, cub! You'll make a good fighter pilot yet! Don't let up though! Let's get the other formation." We rose again at 60 degrees into the clouds at max power , but the next wing of Eagles was coming up after us. "What's the rule Cipher?" Viktor asked.

"Meet the guns!"

"Good!"

I stall dived the Falcon at about 27,000 feet and rushed back down to meet the Eagles's fire. The lead plane dove out of the way, but my 20mm cannon struck the number two right out of the air. The number three quickly turned away as a result, but the number four was too slow, and I launched a sidewinder at him close to the end of my dive. As I finished it, and returned back into another climb, I caught the wreckage in my rearview mirror. I was an….

"I know what you're thinking cub! Push it out of your mind, celebrations are for later! We have a job to finish, now, readjust and launch another attack."

"Roger, Boss."

I leveled the Falcon at about 25,000 feet trying to get an eye on my attackers. They were cruising low at my 4 o'clock, doing the same thing as me. I turned off into an Split-S and throttled up to 3/4 power. The Eagles came rushing my way, head-on. As soon as I entered range, I let loose a sidewinder on the second plane, shattering it instantly. But, the first plane made its mark. A cannon round pierced the canopy. It hit Andrianov right in the head. He was dead in an instant. I turned back to look at him, and he was hunched over in his seat, completely lifeless and limp. I almost panicked and gave up the fight at that image. But all of a sudden, I heard a voice.

"Hellooo? You there, mercenary?" a Belkan accent came in over the radio. I looked around and saw the F-15 sitting off my right wing. He was just looking at me, and my fury was only building by the minute.

"You got something to say?" I shot back.

"Well, don't we have a little feisty one!"

"I don't have all day, schwein-hund(pig-dog)! Get on with it!" I yelled.

"Ah, so you are a Verlorener Junge(Lost Boy)! I should of guessed by how well you flew." I looked at the tail of the plane, and I saw a strange symbol. It was a snake, with it's body arraigned in a figure eight. We had heard about the Devil Snakes from the Sapinese pilots. They were scared to death of them. And now I knew why. Flying against Belkans is no easy feat. "Well, enough chit-chat junge. I am a Grabacr, and I don't like to wait!"

"I'd hate to disappoint you," I called mockingly.

"A sense of humor as well! You are an odd-case! Well, I might as well hurry up and kill you, so I can continue fighting for the glory of Belka!" I quickly rolled and pushed the stick hard right to get behind him. He copied the maneuver and was now over to my left. I went up at 85 degrees on full power, and made an Immelmann turn to try and readjust, but he was now on my tail. I moved off to the right again, at about 30,000 feet and went into another climb. I was going to push the ceiling on this thing. I climbed more and more, on afterburner hitting 50,000 feet. Luckily, his Eagle couldn't make it and leveled at about 45,000 feet. I reversed and dove back down at him. He turned tail and tried to make a run for it, and I pursued him. This whole time I could hear Andrianov's body shaking in the seat behind me. It was soul-destroying to listen to that as I fought, but It only pushed me harder. I got in range behind the speeding Eagle and released a sidewinder. The missile made its merry way to the plane and impacted off of the tailplanes. The Eagle rocketed towards the ground, and a chute was not far away.

I turned the Falcon back to base ,and I was a wreck. After the sortie, I didn't speak to anyone for 3 days. But by then, the war had ended with the Loyalists managing to hang on to their power. If Andrianov had made it through that flight, he would of gone home. But he didn't. Strangely he said this to me only a week earlier, "One of these days those Valkyries will carry me to Valhalla. It is inevitable. I know it will come, when the one who is worthy will replace me." He was spot-on. Vixen managed to coax me out of my mental exile after the 3 days. I guess that's why we're somewhat close. Ever since then our eject code, if we were going down, was Valhalla. It was a fitting tribute for our instructor. He's buried back in his hometown in Yuktobania, under a unmarked grave. The only words on the tombstone read, "I am in Valhalla, for my glory was in battle."

* * *

><p>-30,000 feet over Valais AFB, 1315 hrs.-<p>

I could almost hear Kelly shudder at the thought she was sitting where Andrianov was killed. "Well, what's that have to do with your father?" she asked from the back-seat, "I mean, sure the Belkans weren't happy, but what happened to your dad?"

"My father was killed the day after the war ended in favor of the Loyalists. My whole hometown was torched when I returned there on leave. When I got back to my farmstead, my father's body was hanging from a noose on the doorway of my house. There was a sign draped on his chest. It read, 'This is what traitors deserve. We know who you are.' There was no doubt in my mind it was perpetrated by the Grabacr pilot no doubt. The legend was killed not in combat, but by extremists on the ground. I don't think he would of guessed that was his way out."

"Sheesh. Well, Cipher, you've had one hell of a ride, " she continued, "I can't believe all these crazy things have happened to you."

"It isn't over yet."

I could see the guys coming this way at about 20,000 feet from my one o'clock low.

"Galm 3, this is Galm 1, do you copy over."

"Hey Cipher, Buzzard here, op was good. No problems."

"Good to hear!" I exclaimed happily, "You guys are clear to touchdown."

"Roger. Wait, hold on a second. Radar must be going crazy! Eight craft bearing from the North."

No. No. No,no,no,no,no!

"Guys get out! This can't be! I think it's the devil snakes!" I ordered as I managed to toggle my master arm switch, almost lying totally forward in my seat.

"What?!" Vixen shouted, "There's no way!"

"It's the exact same picture on the screen, same grouping, numbers. It has to be," I replied.

"Oh come on!" Buzzard snarled, "I hoped we never had to deal with these bastards again. Let's move it guys!"

"Looks like we do," I answered.

"Ready to get 'em buddy?" Pixy said as he formed up on my wing.

"You got it! Kelly you alright back there?"

"Jesus Cipher, you seriously going to put me in the middle of a dogfight?" she asked worriedly.

"I thought it would be good for the story!" I laughed.

She didn't. The planes came into range again, but these were no ordinary interceptors. These were F-15S/MTD's. The most advanced Eagle out there. This was going to be a slaughter.

"Guys, can you get down?" I nervously snapped.

"No! They're rejecting the landing clearance!" Lobo replied.

"Damn it! Pixy, we're attacking!"

"Roger Cipher, Galm 2 engaging!"

"Galm 1, engaging! Central Command confirm over-watch duty over!"

"Roger Galm 1, Central Command is assuming over-watch over. Eight targets bearing 010 on the nose. Cleared to intercept, the targets are confirmed as Belkan fighters."

Really! I thought as we went onto to combat power. I let the cannon loose to scatter the flock, and it worked well. The 8 planes were now evenly dispersed in the sky in front of us.

"Pixy, you go first, I'm not going to be up to full effectiveness in here. You're clear for independent attack priority and special weapons."

"Roger Cipher, I'm loose."

The Solo Wing Eagle roared up past us to my right, and went off towards the hunt. I pushed the Falcon up and veered off to the left to chase down on of the S's. The first one I had locked up was climbing hard at my three o'clock. I made a Immelmann turn and took off after him, mimicking the climb at about a 70 degree angle of attack. The Eagle's pilot then realized I was on him, and pitched the plane hard down in a negative G-turn. I rolled the Falcon, and did an inverted dive. The Eagle was now diving out of control, and smashed into the mountains with a great plume of exploding jet fuel. I shook my head. "One of 'em blacked himself out, guess it's a kill for me," I reported.

"Roger Galm 1, keep up the attack, over," Central Command responded.

"I copy. You still good back there Kelly?"

"Yeah, it's actually not too bad since you actually can see where you're flying," she replied.

"Yeah, that's why I hate airliners." I dove off to my left again, and out of a dive, I managed to get a perfect deflection shot right on one of the other Eagle's engines. He was out of the fight, and immediately egressed. I didn't bother to go after him. Another MTD/S was coming in from my six and fired a sidewinder at the max range. I jinked back on the stick and put myself face-to-face with the attacker. I had already lost the missile in the turn, so I launched my own in retaliation. It worked its way over, and managed to impact the nacelles on the underside. He was heavily damaged, and soon bailed out. Then, a familiar voice came over the radio.

"Ah! The Grosse Junge(Big Boy) is here!" the wicked Belkan snake stated.

"You sure about that Ashley?" one of the other Belkan pilots asked.

"Ja Michael, That's the same Falcon from Nueve Calibra! Don't you recognize it?" Ashley answered.

"Ah! I do remember it's due time we paid back that rebellious junge." he snorted.

"Well, well, snakes! Is time for another ass-kicking?" I mockingly boomed over the comm.

"Ah, so it is you!" Ashley commented, "It was only a matter of time anyways. I don't think you in much of a position to make such a remark, because I see that one of your freunde(friends) is in trouble!" I glanced over my right shoulder and saw one of the XL's coming under fire from a Belkan Eagle.

"Who's under fire?"

"It's me, Rainman!" he nervously called out, "It's getting to an extraordinary level of bad over here!"

"I'm coming!" I turned over and headed in that direction. The Eagle was now following him down in a 30 degree dive, right over the base. He was being rather liberal with his missile ordinance, firing at every opportune moment. The XL was avoiding the missiles, but I knew he didn't have long. I went after the tailing Belkan, and gave him some 20mm hail. It struck all over the the S's body, and he released a Sparrow right at Rainman and broke from the fight. The big projectile sped right towards the XL and impacted right into the tail.

"RAINMAN! GET OUT!"

There was only a one word response as the crippled delta-wing Falcon fell. It was so feint I wasn't even sure it was actually even spoken.

Valhalla…

The Falcon fell right onto the taxi-way of the base near the GHQ. He was dead the second he hit the ground.

"RAINMAN!" Lobo cried, "I've had enough of this! I'm going after these guys!"

"Lobo! Stay back, that's an order!" Buzzard said nervously.

"Lobo! We can't lose you too!" I yelled at the Sapinese mercenary, "Come on! You need to get home too!"

"I just can't sit by while my friends die!"

"You have to Lobo! Do you want to leave your family back home alone?"

"This is my family! I won't let anyone else die today!"

He pushed on full afterburner, with Buzzard, Vixen, and Zero hot on his tail to try and get him to shake off. The Belkans were having none of it.

"So this one wants to die too? Fine by me!" Ashley arrogantly called. He put his F-15 right in front of Lobo's Falcon and gave a full broadside of ordinance. I tried to get after him, but I couldn't get him in time. The missiles impacted right into Lobo's ordinance, setting the Falcon ablaze. It tumbled from the skies, and impacted into the mountains behind the base. This had to end!

"Pixy, you bag 'em?"

"Yeah, I tried my hardest, buddy. All that's left are the psychos, Ashley and Michael."

"Let's get them. Buzzard, make sure you keep them back this time!"

"I couldn't do anything Cipher! I'll do my best."

"You have to do better than that!" I angrily cried at my friend. I turned hard in the formation with Pixy, and we raced towards the remaining planes. I released two Slammers from long range, and the Snakes avoided them, no problem.

"Ha! Not good enough to defeat an Ofnir!" Michael hissed.

"This boy can't defeat a true Grabacr!" Ashley bellowed.

I grunted and turned hard into another high-G turn. I put myself behind Ashley's Eagle and followed him up on 3/4 throttle through a series of sweeping turns. I wasn't letting him get away. The targeting reticle for my gun flicked on, and I positioned my reticle over the computer's suggestion. I depressed the trigger and I could see the full-metal tracers streaming in a solid line right at the Eagle's fuselage. Pixy was doing the exact same thing over to my right. We had them. "So much for that, Ashley! Looks like you're in trouble now!" I threatened, my voice filled with pangs of pain and despair. I didn't feel like I really stood behind those words. But they had to go down. My longtime friends died at their hands. But the gun wasn't enough. They had an armor similar to what I had faced with the Rot, and they shook off the hits, and ran.

"Another day, we will kill you, Belkan traitor!"Ashley mockingly sneered.

"Ha! I doubt it, you had trouble enough killing a pilot with only one arm!" I shouted back.

"What?" Michael replied, "That can't be right!"

"It is."

"Well Grosse Junge! We will meet again! Your father was only the first!"Ashley said as turned away.

"What?" Vixen blurted out, "What is he talking about Erich?"

"I'll tell you later."

The S's sped off away from us. Out of sight and out of mind. We quickly turned back and put the planes back down. Even though the old Falcon was a bit lagging behind my Widow, it was nice to fly the old girl one more time. Even with what had happened. I parked the Falcon outside of the team hangar, and the crews got to work shutting her down. The other guys's planes were rolled off into the team hangar. The canopy popped open, and they helped Kelly out first. I didn't even stir. I sat there in utter silence. I had lost two of my friends. My dad's words were starting to become truth right in front my eyes.

"Why didn't I listen to him?" I whispered. The weight of the world was resting on my shoulders, and forced them down into a heavy sulk. Lothar hooked up the ladder and came up to check on me.

"You ok, Erich?"

I didn't answer.

"Er-rich, knock-knock, you home in there?" he said as he knocked on my helmet.

"Just….just…" I stammered, "leave me alone."

"Ok, I will. Do you want me to get you out of there?"

"Yes, please."

He unfastened my belts, and unhooked my oxygen mask. I finally breathed in fresh air, and took a couple of deep breaths to recompose myself.

"Erich!" I heard Vixen call from my left, "Is he ok, Lothar?"

"He's in shock, of course," he replied calmly as he supported me down the ladder, "I'm surprised he's worse off than you."

"I'll take him," she replied calmly.

She supported me all the way back to my room. On the way, the rest of the personnel just looked on in shock at me. I looked like a total mess. My eyes were wild and wandering every which way. My clothes were disheveled and tossed about. I was in no mood to speak. She eventually got to my room, number eleven, and helped me inside. She laid me out on my bed, readjusted my clothes, and unzipped my jacket. I finally was able to breath a little.

"Now, what's that you need to tell me?" she angrily inquired, her face growing ever more red.

My head didn't even turn to face her as I spoke. "My father is dead."

"What? You said he was still alive a month ago," she retorted, "What's that have to do with all of this?"

"The reason they know about my father, is because they killed him, lynched him. Heinzhollen is gone. They torched it. Remember the day I came back from leave with my stuff all covered in soot last year?"

She quietly nodded.

"They razed it. There's nothing left. Everyone's dead, and now they killed Rainman and Lobo!" I broke into an uncontrollable sob, and Vixen came over and put her hand on my shoulder.

"It's ok. You did all you could. If you hadn't been up we could of all been dead. As long as you don't forget them, Rainman and Lobo will never be gone."

"They didn't deserve this as their death. I deserved death more than they did."

"No you turned death back!" she yelled at me, "Don't you ever say you deserve death!"

I turned towards her. She was starting to tear up too. Her eyes were welling up, and I knew she felt the same pain as I did. That feeling that you were robbed, cheated, and lied to. Your best friends, your pals, your buddies torn away from you. You had no control in this life. The only thing you could control was yourself. At that moment, I was humbled. She was showing greater strength than I ever had. She was doing it for me.

"Thanks Vixen," I replied softly, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said as she kissed me. I wasn't even surprised.

**AN/: There you go everyone! It's official! Erich and Vixen are together. His dad Tomas, is now confirmed dead, and so is Andrianov. It really fun to finally let loose the back-story I was holding back for Erich. Let me know if you guys liked this length, because I think I'm going to try and go for longer chapters. Anyways, hope to catch you again soon!**

** Also RIP to Rainman and Lobo. Gone, but never forgotten. A couple of the German vets I've met in the past few years have recently died too. May their souls rest silently and peacefully.  
><strong>

**Karaya 1**

**Glossary-**

**Ploesti- A city in Romania, where a crucial oil field was located during WWII that the Germans desperately needed for their war efforts. It was bombed by a daring raid of B-24 Liberators in Operation Tidal Wave, which ended in failure. It was eventually dubbed "Black Sunday". 53 planes, and 660 crew members were lost in the raid.**

**Condor Legion: A reference to the infamous Condor Legion that flew in Spain during the Spanish Civil War in the 30's on the side of the Nationalists under Franco. Many famous pilots WWII pilots started their careers here, including Adolf Galland.**

**Volk: Russian for Wolf**

**Valhalla: Basically a warrior's paradise after death in Norse mythology watched over by Odin. Can I just say, Norse mythology is freaking awesome! I hate the Marvel Thor films though(Tactical Fan-hate Nuke inbound!).**


	10. Chapter 10: The Spearhead

**AN/: Guten Tag, I'm back! Here's Chapter Ten.**

**EDIT: I've changed the rating from this story from M to T, mainly because the added stuff I could do was actually harming the story. So, if you've read this before, the chapters have been edited for language and some of the more graphic things.**

Ch. 10 The Spearhead  
><em>Their element is to attack, to track, to hunt, and to destroy the enemy. Only in this way can the eager and skillful fighter pilot display his ability. Tie him to a narrow and confined task, rob him of his initiative, and you take away from him the best and most valuable qualities he posses: aggressive spirit, joy of action, and the passion of the hunter.<em>  
><em>— General Adolf Galland, Luftwaffe.<em>

* * *

><p>-May 17, 1995 Valais AFB, 0630 hrs-<p>

I shuddered awake in my cot with a light beaming in my face. Standing over me was Vixen.

"Time to get going, we have the sortie in a couple of hours," she whispered.

"Not really looking forward to it, to be truthful," I replied.

She helped me into my uniform, and my flight suit. I now wore the thing almost 24/7 when I was awake. I didn't have time to take it off and on since I was with my stump. I got the sling off the night before, so I had a little more freedom, but it still sucked. She finished off the dressing by tying my shoes. I finally stood, and grabbed my crushed hat off of my desk, and I slapped it on my head. First order of business was breakfast. The mess was alright, especially for me and Vixen, since it served a lot of Belkan food. Breakfast, in Belkan style, was typically light. Some eggs, fresh bread, and cold meat. Coffee was blood around here, and was a lot stronger than a normal Osean 'child's' blend as we called it. Probably because Belkans and Ustians are bitter people. We just need a coffee that suits us. After I got my food and took a seat at one of the tables with Vixen, Buzzard and Zero came in and sat with us. I had spent the past night telling them about my dad and who he really was, and I filled them in on what I knew of the Grabacr. The Ofnir was a new name that I had never heard of before. With the funerals for Rainman and Lobo pushed back indefinitely, and Kelly already gone, we were pushed back into frontline action. But for the time being, we concerned ourselves with the matters of these strange squadrons.

"So these Grabacr and Ofnir guys, they are in with whoever's running the show?" Buzzard inquired.

"Have to be," I said as I took a sip of my coffee, "There's no way they penetrated that airspace on their own. Someone's helping them."

"What really seems odd is that the ground forces weren't firing any AA or SAM's yesterday," Zero replied.

"Yeah, that is weird," Vixen said as she took a bite out of her bread.

"We have to keep on our toes guys. We don't know who's really on our side," I quietly commanded as some of other personnel sat at tables around us. Vixen appeared to be very nervous as she shivered in her seat next to me. I softly took hold of her hand, her fears slowly faded away, and she calmed down. She laid her head into my right shoulder, and it put me at ease too. It was nice to have her around.

"Thanks, Erich," she whispered into my ear.

"You need me, just let me know. We're a team up there, and down here."

An adjutant rushed into the room and gave us an order to report to the briefing room. We threw away our food and headed that way. We all rushed in to find Chennault standing at the front of the room waiting for us. We took our seats, and the protocol briefing began.

"Intelligence reports that Belka is developing nuclear arms and V2, a weapon of mass destruction. The Allied Forces' top brass have decided to send troops across the Hydrian Line into Belka to check for nuclear arms and secure resource interests."

Of course, I thought, It's about the money.

"Centered on the ruined base of Glatisant, the Hydrian Line, Belka's long line of defense, stretches 700 kilometers from Osea's southern border to the border of Sapin. Situated at the peak of Mt. Ivrea, the ruins of Glatisant have been transformed into a modern base with antiaircraft artillery and a powerful defense system. The Galm Team's mission is to launch an aerial strike on Glatisant, opening the door to Belka for our ground troops. In all probability, this will be an extended operation. You will be able to refuel during the latter half of the mission. If you're low on fuel, temporarily withdraw from the battle and return to base. Good luck. I know it's going to be tough up there without your friends, but keep at it. That's all."

We ran out and headed to our planes, and to our surprise their were some new war-birds on the line. Three brand new F-2A Viper Zeroes were now parked outside the team's hangar. They were in the distinctive blue camouflage, which signified their former role as navy defense fighters. The guys were all surprised about the upgrade, and they ran to their new babies while Lothar gave them a rundown on the specs. I walked over to my plane, the Red Widow inside the team hangar. Pixy was there waiting for me.

"Hey buddy, how's it going?"

"Not too bad, you doing alright?"I shot back.

His face immediately paled and he looked away. I was really confused. What did I do? I saw something sticking out of his right pocket on his flight jacket. The paper was a sepia print, and had a large notice on it that read "Lucan and Bedivere have called" but that's all I could make out before he quickly shoved it out of my sight.

"I'm good, buddy. Let's just get this over with."

"Fine by me. And we'll have a little chat about that paper later Pixy, I'm not that blind."

He frowned as I mentioned that, and the Solo-Wing pilot rushed away to his Eagle. Lothar finished his business getting the 2's ready, and he came over to help me.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."I started to climb up the ladder with Lothar pushing me up from behind. When I got to the top, I flopped down into the seat, and put all of my belts on top of me. Lothar quickly strapped me in, and handed me my helmet. I threw it on, and gave him my crusher cap. He took my cap, and fastened on my oxygen mask. With his slap on my helmet, I knew I was ready.

"Contact!" I called.

The general electric jets rumbled on, emitting a hazy hue behind them. I closed up the canopy, and gave the cross-drop. The gear around the Widow was removed, and I put the Widow into motion. The Red 23 rolled down the taxi-way menacingly. I stopped right at the end of the runway.

"This is Galm 1, requesting takeoff runway 27, over."

"Roger Galm 1, Tower speaking, you're good for launch. Good luck today, over."

"I copy Tower."

I gave full thrust to the engines, and the Widow progressed down the runway with ever increasing speed. I gently pulled back on the stick, and she was gliding right into the air. We made the formation at about 35,000 feet and made the short flight to the Hydrian Line.

* * *

><p>-1030 hrs Hydrian Line-<p>

There was a heavy storm clouding over the combat zone of the main fortress at Glatisant, which meant we had a chance to get a surprise attack in from up high, if the intelligence was right. We rode through the heavens at a leisurely cruise, all the while the Viper Zeros were readying their targeting computers for the run. Pixy and I maintained an air-superiority load, so we could keep the guys safe. For the rearming, we would stagger it, where one-half of our force would pull out, while the others maintained a presence. Lucky for us, some of the other forces had taken out the area gate, so we could save some of the goods for the big boy, the Wall, which held the heaviest AA battery along the entire line.

" 'Nuclear Inspection'? What a joke," Pixy muttered.

"They make up anything they want Pixy, you have to remember that," I replied.

"Doesn't mean I don't like it less."

"No shit!" I answered mockingly, "Just keep your head in the game bro."

"Thanks buddy."

"How we looking Buzzard? You guys ready?"I asked over the comm.

"Yeah we're pretty good. Probably safe to make our dive now."

"Roger, we're Oscar Mike," I ordered.

We all simultaneously rolled the planes onto their bellies and began the attack run at about a 65 degree angle of attack. Pixy and myself would only be a diversionary ruse to get the focus of the guns. We broke the cloud cover, and immediately the rain began to implode all over my canopy with loud knocks. Mt. Iverea was right in front of us, and the guns immediately opened fire. The AA fire was ferocious. The main tower was giving us hell with the machine guns and cannons, while all around the complex, SAM's and pillboxes were adding up to a deadly cocktail of lead and fire. I gave full thrust and rushed low, and made a pass over the main tower to try and give a little shock-wave to loosen up the guns. Pixy was circling the tower as I did so, and managed to divert some of the fire. I dove down into the dark green valley to the north of the fortress, and reversed. I came back over again, managing to snag the attention of the SAM's. The diversion was making it a walk in the park for the former Halo team members. They were coming in nice and easy, and had a big load of Mavericks to present to the Belkans. As I moved south, I caught a glimpse of the missiles running straight into the tower from my rear-view mirror. It had great effect and managed to make the old tower collapse.

"Target destroyed," Vixen called, "What's next boss?"

"I'll follow you over to the Harrier base on the north side, Vixen. Pixy you take the guys over the Castle. After that, we'll stagger return, and move on to the Tower from there."

A chorus of clicks met my orders and we quickly got back to the hunt.

"You doing ok, Vixen?" I called as the F-2 leveled off my left wing.

"I'm doing great, actually. Got your birthday present ready for the 23rd!"

Shit! My birthday is next week! The 23rd!

"Man, I almost forgot about that!" I said angrily.

"How could you forget your own birthday?"

"This war makes you forget all those things," I spoke sadly.

"Well, just keep your eyes open, all right?" she said warmly.

"Thanks, Vicki."

"Don't mention it."

"You lovebirds at the Harrier base yet?" Buzzard radioed in.

"Yeah, pretty much," I chuckled, "Make sure you watch your targets Buzzard."

We finally arrived at the Harrier base and I finally had some targets to shoot at. There was a series of hangars over at the far end of another castle complex to the north. Luckily I was getting air-to-air locks due to them being identified as planes on the IFF. I let loose with four of my Slammers, having good effect on the grounded jump-jets. Two Harriers were actually up though, and were giving Vixen a hard time on the attack run.

"Vixen circle around, I'll take those guys out for ya."

"Roger."

I climbed up to just under cloud level, and made a long swooping turn to the right, and got behind the Harriers, which were just sitting in their hover mode. I got the first one with an easy gun strike in the engines. It slowly tumbled with the pilot bailing, and I re-engaged on the second one which was trying to speed away at about 5,000 feet. I got with the gun as well, putting him into an uncontrollable flat-spin. "You're clear, my lady."

"Well, thank you," she replied.

She let loose with the rest of her Mavericks to take out the hard points. I mopped up some of the munitions stocks with some cannon-fire strafes. It wasn't too hard.

"Alright, Pixy, sit-rep if you would?" I called.

"Castle is confirmed destroyed. Ready to maintain for your refuel and rearm."

"Roger, we're ex-filling."

We hit the gas and stormed back south to Ustio and Valais to get rebooted for the last run. We were super-cruising at about 25,000 feet, and it was a relaxing flight back above the thick cloud cover.

"Hey Cipher?" Vixen sheepishly asked.

"What's wrong?" I answered instinctively.

"Oh, nothing. It's just," she sighed, "I kind of want a break from all of this."

"I know what you mean. It's been rough. Losing Rainman and Lobo in the same day was totally stupid."

"Uh-huh. I was thinking, if we have time, do you want to spend leave over at my place for your birthday? Since your place is well…you know..."

"Sure, sure," I quickly cut her off, "I'd love too."

"Great! I think it would be good for the both of us."

"I don't doubt it."

We finally made it back to Valais, which was now covered in the omnipotent clouds that cloaked the skies over the Hydrian Line, but instead of torrential rain, flaky snow came down onto the air base.

"Tower this is Galm 1 and 3, requesting permission to land, over."

"Roger, clear for runway 9 over."

I put the flaps down on the machine, and coasted her in for a perfect soft landing, and Vixen easily followed suit. We took the birds off the runway and got them in position for the crews to get us back to full-up. I opened the cockpit for some air, and Vixen did too. Lothar came over to supervise the activities decked out in his winter kit, which was a thick leather coat and very thick wool boots that made his feet look a lot larger than they actually did.

"How's the hunting?" the crew chief asked.

"Couple of hares," I replied, "No big bucks, yet."

"Ah, well it's better than nothing isn't it?"

"It would be better if I could actually hunt a real deer, not a damn human-being," I retorted.

"True, I think so too. We need to do that when it's all over."

"If I can find a place, and If I can ever shoot a rifle again!"

"Oh you will!" he said as the crew finished its duties, "You're good to go Erich."

"Alright, you good Vixen?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"Let's roll!"

We were back in line on the runway, and ready to get back to work.

"You're clear Galm 1 and 3. Go get 'em."

"Roger."

Again the Widow soared on full afterburner into the air, and back towards the combat zone. As soon as we arrived at the line, Buzzard, being typical Buzzard, started being silly.

"Ah, so you finally return! You guys make out on the ground or something? You're a few minutes late, which is completely unacceptable!," he sarcastically jested.

"Nah, I just stole your stash of beer," I replied. I had just found out about the night before, and I couldn't wait to see how he reacted.

"What?! How'd you know about that?"

"Do you think I wouldn't notice someone carrying beer out of the bar on a regular basis, and then burying it in the snow outside the door nearest to your room? I'm not an idiot!"

"Uh, yeah, right. We're just going…." the Usean trailed off as the wing broke away from us.

The others quickly sped away with Pixy chuckling all the way with his band of misfits. We circled around the Southern sector of the rainy combat zone, and it was relatively quiet until we got some bad news. Really, really bad news.

"This is Eagle Eye," the AWACS controller chimed in for the first time today, "We're picking up some unusual aerial activity. Four signatures are on course for your position Galm 1, vector 290, over."

"Roger Double E. Vixen, we need to push up above the clouds."

"I got you Cipher. You finally going to teach me how to really dogfight?"

"Well, I might not have a choice. You got sidewinders on there?"

"Yeah, should be alright."

"Ok, just stay glued to my tail, and do what I do."

"I copy. Let's move."

We pushed back above the thick clouds and made our way to the radar signatures. Having the element of surprise was crucial on this attack. Whoever this was, we needed to get as many of them down in the first run as we could, since we were outnumbered. "Alright Vixen, you're going to start off much like I did. You need to get as close as possible to the fighters before you fire. That way you won't miss, and you'll cause some serious damage to boot," I instructed

"I copy, close in and then fire away."

"Good. Begin attack." We dove through the clouds and immediately met the enemy fighters JAS-39C Gripens, which were climbing to meet us. I let loose with my cannon and managed to shoot down the third plane in the group. Vixen swerved around the group and then reversed to go after the tail plane. "That's the way!" I called as she opened fire with her cannon. The number four Gripen was trailing smoke, and slowly went down into the mountains. The pilot had safely bailed as well.

"Splash one for Galm 4, over," I called as she formed up on me.

"Roger, Galm 1. Good hunting Galm 4," The AWACS replied.

"Thanks Eagle Eye, let's get the rest of them Cipher."

We headed back above the clouds to get back into the fight. The rest of the Gripens were waiting for us, and immediately launched some long-range ordinance our way. We both did a nice roll-and-turn, and were right back on course for the attack. The Gripens tried to turn tail, but they were unable to get away. I lined up behind the number two and let one of my slammers off the chains. The missile shot right towards the Gripen in an instant, and immediately impacted right into the engine. The plane spun out of control into a dive, and I was worried he wasn't going to be able to get out. But, eventually the Belkan managed to eject. "Thank God," I whispered.

Vixen was all over the number one desperate to get the kill. She had expended all of her sidewinders, so now she was on the gun alone. The Gripen had also done the same, and now it was true duel. A true test of skill. They were weaving every which way, jumping out of the other's way once the rounds were coming. Vixen was flying very well for her first real dogfight, and I realized then it was no ordinary squadron we had faced. It was the Indigo squadron. I had ignored to the white and purple markings on their planes.

"Hey Vixen, be glad you're doing this good. These guys are Indigo."

"You serious?" she replied as she grunted through another turn.

"Yup. Look at his plane."

"Well, well! Not too bad, eh?"

"Nope, did a lot better than me in my real fight, I didn't get any planes, and almost crashed. Twice."

"So, I'm better than you?"

I laughed, "Let's not get carried away, now. Stay focused. Don't let him out of your sight, and be patient."

"Roger."

The battle went on, and on. Circling around each other, trying to get on their opponent's tails. But eventually, the Belkan had enough and tried to run. Vixen couldn't keep up, but I slotted right behind him, and gave a spike. I didn't fire. He just sat there awaiting his death, but eventually, he realized I hadn't fired. I pulled up on his right, and looked over at him. He still had his helmet on, but I could tell it was an older guy, probably in his 30's. I tapped my helmet where my ear would be, and switched my radio over to general comms.

"Hallo?" I called over the radio.

"Ach, Hallo!" I heard a Belkan voice call, "You must be the Devil we keep hearing so much about."

"Really? I thought I was a bit more less known around here," I replied.

"Nein, the Belkans all know who you are. You've made quite a name for yourself Red Devil," the pangs of a aristocratic tongue spoke through the radio.

"Well, I'm glad the enemy somewhat respects me. I've learned to respect you as well, my friend."

"Freunde(friend)? Unfortunately with no ammo, and not enough fuel to get back to base, I think you could be a friend."

"Our base is just a short flight from here. The choice is yours. You can get shot down here, or come back with me. It's up to you."

"Well, I suppose I could come back with you. I'm tired of this war anyways. Do you think you could get a rescue out for my comrades?" The squadron leader spoke.

"Of course. Eagle Eye, you get that?"

"Roger, we'll send choppers to pick them up," the AWACS controller said with no sounds of resistance or anger.

"That good enough for you, Herr…."

"Heinrich, Dimitri Heinrich," the voice calmly responded.

"Well met Herr Heinrich. Vixen, you take lead."

"Roger Cipher, what about the others?"

"They can handle it. Eagle Eye will let them know. Let's get going."

We headed back to base and passed the others on the way. They were rather confused about the situation, but I promised to explain as soon as they finished the mission. We eventually arrived at Valais with the Indigo pilot, and Vixen landed first. The Belkan took second landing, and I followed in behind. We pulled up to the hangar, and swarms of MP's were all around the Indigo Gripen. I watched as the canopy opened, and the pilot of the plane, stepped out, and was escorted away from his plane. He didn't resist, and seemed very civil about the whole situation. Lothar came over carrying a bundle in his hands. I opened the cockpit, and he attached the ladder. The bundle then landed in my lap as Lothar reached me.

"These are for you Erich," he said as he pointed at the bundle, held together with twine, from the ladder.

"What are they?" I asked as I opened it.

"Consider it an early birthday gift, Erich."

Inside there were two things. One was a brand new wool grey Ustian Air Force great-coat, with the red Air Force insignias on the collar, and red Major rank shoulder patches. The other was a wooden walking cane, marked with the squadron insignia on the top. It had intricate carvings all over it and had my name along with the inscription of 'Rittmeister' running down the beautiful dark brown wood. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

"The coat is from up high, but the cane is from me. My father is a carpenter, and his walking canes are highly sought after. When I wrote him a letter about what had happened so far, especially with you, he sent it as a gift. He wishes for your safety and health," he responded with a smile, "Let's get you out."

We did our usual 5 minute removal, and I was finally on the ground. Lothar helped me put my coat on, and gave me my new cane. I really looked like one of the fighter aces of old. Der Rittmeister. The Belkan was now brought back out to us again. He had brown hair, and a light beard and moustache growing on his face. His brown eyes were very cold and piercing. Even though he had been captured, he displayed and aura of relief and joy. The pilot was rather surprised to see who we really were under the helmets, staring right back at him.

"I am surprised you two are so young!"'

"I get that a lot Herr Heinrich!" I responded as Vixen came over from her Viper and laid her head on my shoulder. Dimitri just smiled at us.

"Are you two…?" Dimitri asked.

"Yes, you could say so," she responded.

"Are you the one who was on me as well?"

"Not bad for my first time, don't you think?" she said as she looked up to me.

"No, not bad." I replied with a grin.

The Belkan was left with his mouth gaping wide open. He was astonished. All the stories of us being superhuman devils weren't true. We were just teenagers, essentially, fighting a war that we knew so little about. After that, I gave a tour of the place, as long as he promised not to run away, to which he agreed to, with no objections. I showed him the Falcon, and he was surprised about that too. They had heard about the Belkan mercenary who had fought the Grabacr in Sapin. We took him to the mess hall to get some coffee, and it was a refreshing talk. Especially on the information he gave us about the Grabacr and Ofnir.

"The Grabacr and Ofnir are supported by the Ralds, but pretty much everyone else despises them. Much like that Schwarze traitor-killer squadron," Dimitri told to us. It was not a huge surprise, especially with how they acted.

"So they are in league with the Ralds and taking orders directly from them, like Schwarze?" I asked.

"From what word that got around, yes. After your first incident at the Round Table, word was spreading about these squadrons going on assassination runs, trying to kill you. When the one that got to you failed, and they were striped of their strength and power. Now, the only ones that have operational and flying privileges are the leaders Ashley Bernitz, and Michael Heimeroth. Don't think that just because that mission failed they will stop, from what word that got around they're going to try again, once the offensive reaches a certain point," the wise Belkan pilot said as he took a big swig of the coffee.

"I thank you for the information," I said as I held out my only hand.

"You're welcome, It's a strange brotherhood, the air force. It's like a tribe of like-minded people. It pains me greatly that we have to fight. I would prefer to fly with you on more peaceful terms in the future, if such was possible," Dimitri replied shaking back.

"I agree," Vixen replied.

A MP came up to us, and looked over to Dimitri. "Time to go."

"Already?" he replied snidely, "I was starting to like it here!" He got up and dusted himself off, "Best of luck to you both."

He quietly walked off with the guard, right as the other guys came in. Buzzard was first to voice his concerns.

"Who was that?" he said, or more or less yelled.

"It's the leader of the Indigo squadron, we had a nice chat," I responded.

"Why the hell did you let him in here?!" Buzzard snorted.

"Because he surrendered to me, you idiot!" I snapped, "I didn't want to kill him if I didn't have to!"

"Fine," the Usean pilot growled, "Just don't do it again."

"I can't make any promises, George," I replied.

"Why'd you call me that? You never call me by my first name," Buzzard dubiously responded.

"I figured you needed a little system shock to wake you up."

"Oh."

"What happened out there that made you like that?" I asked Buzzard.

"After we finished our last run, there was a bright flash of light all around us. The squadrons on the other sides of the line were wiped out. In an instant. We have no idea what it was," Buzzard said as he took a seat at the table, and buried his head into crossed arms, "We're the one of the few operating squadrons left in the AO."

"Shit," I said as I took another sip from my coffee, "Guess we're going to have our work cut out for us."

Pixy in this confusion was trying to slip away, but I caught him off to my right, near the door leading outside.

"Pixy! Get over here!" I ordered pointing to a seat across from me at the table. He slowly dragged himself over there, his face paled. He knew he was going to have to tell me what all those things in his paper meant. "Now, Pixy, do you mind elaborating to us what was on that note I saw earlier?"

The veteran sighed and then began to speak, "It's an old dispatch method from some of my friends in the Osean Air Force. You know one of them. Lucan is Joshua Bristow from Wizard. The other, Bedivere, is Anthony Palmer, from Sorcerer squadron. I keep a correspondence with them. They give me some news from the other fronts. I give them some in return. It's kind of a little club we started about 7 years ago when we all started flying. It's nice to get messages from them once in a while."

"Can I see it?" I asked.

"I don't have it with me anymore, we destroy the notes after we receive them."

"Why? If these are just some friendly letters, it doesn't make much sense that you would destroy them," Vixen accused, "You must be putting some sensitive material in there."

"That's true. We've been talking about some things, and about how we all disagree with the things that are currently going on," the Solo Wing pilot affirmed, "Bristow's been claiming that he's got a big group that wants to separate and started some World without Borders thing with some other guys to stop the war. I seriously doubt he could do it, or even have the support to carry out such a large thing."

"Would you join him if he did? Be honest with me Pixy," I said as I finished off the last of my cup of coffee.

"I don't think so. There's not been many ridiculous calls made by either side yet. If the Oseans or the Belkans went nuts, maybe, but most likely no."

"Can you promise me that?" I dared. I needed to know how far I could go with him.

"Yeah, I think I could."

"Good. I don't want you coming and trying to shoot me down alright?" I said with a good laugh, and Pixy did too. "Because if you did, I'd wouldn't hesitate to do the same you," I finished with a hunter's death stare at Solo Wing.

It was cold and silent at that moment, as if some great storm was coming. And I was in the center of it.

**AN/: Well that's that! I'm sorry I'm a little late on my schedule, the weather and some difficulties with my job have been making it very hard for me to find time to calm down and write clearly. I think the next chapter should be here a little ahead of schedule. Hope you guys enjoyed and see you next time!**

**Karaya 1**

**Glossary:**

**AO: abbreviation for Area of Operation**

**Rittmeister: The German name for a cavalry squadron commander that translated over to the German Air Force in the First World War. Manfred von Richthofen was given this title when he was given command of Jasta 11, the famous flying circus squadron.**


	11. Chapter 11: A Step Towards Destiny

**AN/: Guten Tag! I have returned a little early with a new chapter for you all, enjoy!**

**EDIT: I've changed the rating from this story from M to T, mainly because the added stuff I could do was actually harming the story. So, if you've read this before, the chapters have been edited for language and some of the more graphic things.**

Ch.11 A Step Towards Destiny

_Are we Faust?_(**This is a little original poem I wrote. Sorry, no German pilot quote this time. And so, this belongs to me now, along with my original characters. )**  
><em><br>As I sit at the Rubicon,_  
><em>seeing the waters flow<em>  
><em>I understand the not,<em>  
><em>which I have never known.<em>

_The Mighty Caesar crossed this river to show_  
><em>his fulfillment of the truth<em>  
><em>Showing he would go<em>  
><em>even with the presence of the noose.<em>

_The river is life,_  
><em>from which we drink<em>  
><em>But others see it as a knife<em>  
><em>which stabs with no control, they think.<em>

_Our lives are nothing more than songs,_  
><em>In the world's songbook<em>  
><em>Hoping it will be long enough,<em>  
><em>To be in a little nook<em>

_We must understand the words_  
><em>That came in our peak<em>  
><em>So we may be like the birds<em>  
><em>Free, a tremendous feat.<em>

_But I ask one question_  
><em>for many do not know the answer,<em>  
><em>ARE WE NOT FAUST?<em>  
><em>For this, is humanity's true cancer.<em>

* * *

><p>-May 19, 1995 Schayne Plains-<p>

Two days later, we were back in the air for another sortie, Operation Dynamo, targeting the second Belkan line of defense at the Schayne Plains. Buzzard, Vixen, and Zero had scrambled before us at about 0900 hours to participate in the Alpha and Beta Team assaults on the air bases. Pixy and I scrambled around 1030 hours to take part in the final part of the operation, securing air superiority in the Theta Team part of the assault.

We entered the AO at approximately 1230, met by grey skies, and thin low level cloud cover. Alright for dog-fighting.

"This is Galm 1 and Galm 2. Now entering combat zone, Eagle Eye," I said.

"Roger Galm 1 and Galm 2. Targets are now marked on the scope. Approximately 25 fighters are roaming the area. You are to take them out. Galm 3, 4, and 5, are now back under your command.

"I copy, Double E. Where are they now?" I asked with a hint of worry in my voice.

"They are currently moving to your position. Give them about 30 seconds, over."

"Roger."

I waited a few seconds on cruise at about 30,000 feet waiting for the gang to catch up too us. It wasn't long until I heard them.

"Hey Cipher, glad to see you could join the party!" Buzzard called.

"Ready for some real action?" I responded.

"Can't wait, pal."

"You do ok, Vixen?"

"Yeah, managed to bag three Mig 29's. So, I'm an ace now."

"Well congratulations!" I replied "But don't let that get to your head. We still have work to do."

"I copy Cipher, let's show them what Galm can really do," my companion answered as she took up her position in the formation off to my left. We were now rolling in a flying-V formation. It was the first time I really felt like I was in command of a real, legendary team. We had been hardened and honed by war. And now, we were ready to end it.

"Alright boys and girls," I began over the comm., "We have a lot of targets on the scope, so pick some and stick with it. Make sure you call out your targets so we don't have any collisions. Got me?"

A chorus of clicks came back to me.

"Good. I'm heading to the group of four to the far north. Everyone is clear to disperse and engage at will. If you have air-to-air special weapons, now's the time to use them. This is Cipher, now engaging enemy bandits."

"Roger, Pixy here, engaging."

"Vixen, engaging."

"Buzzard, engaging."

"Zero, engaging."

I hit the afterburners and put the Red Widow into a very low degree climb. I raced over the plains like a god of thunder, giving out a loud sonic boom as I passed Mach 1. I clutched the stick in front of me tightly as the four fighters came into my vision at my 10 o'clock low, F/A-18C's. I immediately put the Widow into a Split-S slamming myself with positive g-forces. The Widow was in the perfect position to fire, and I let off two slammers at the trail planes. I reversed and pushed into a 75 degree climb, and checked the damage in my mirror. Two blazing wrecks plummeted from the skies. The other two Hornets were completely in shock, and scrambling around to find me. Luckily, my stealth was good enough that they couldn't. I completed my climb at about 25,000 feet, and went back down again. As the speed indicator on my HUD continued to fly by at an exponential rate, I steadied my finger on the trigger on the stick. The number two plane now was in range at about 10,000 feet, and a little targeting reticule popped up on the glass. I lined it up with a second and immediately depressed the little switch. The cannon opened up and the tracers rocked through the air in front of me and made immediate contact. As soon as it was evident his plane was unable to continue, I broke off and went after the lead.

He dove and was running over the fields, causing a little dust storm in his wake. I stayed up and behind him. I let go a slammer on him, and he wasn't good enough to shake it. The altitude he was at, coupled with the impact, meant he hit the dirt unable to eject. I scowled at that. Why do we have to do this?

"Eagle Eye, my squadron's down, over."

"Good work Galm 1, the next nearest…"

The operator was cut off as I was attacked by a group of Mig-29 Fulcrums, riding towards me at my 8 o'clock. I hit the gas and pulled into steep climb, on full afterburner. I rolled and pulled into a hard reverse move. I pushed back down to try and attack the planes head on. But, the Belkans had anticipated my move, and were still on my tail.

"Hey Pixy! Mind giving me a little room?" I asked as I punched through another hard turn.

"On my way, buddy," the Solo Wing pilot immediately replied.

Within ten seconds I could hear explosions behind me as I saw several heaps of wreckage fall from the sky.

"Thanks for the assist, Pixy."

"Anytime."

I climbed high back up to around 35,000 feet, my head on a swivel. I scooted over in my seat and reached my right hand down to the left side of the cockpit to grab my monocular. As I grabbed it, my plane was struck by cannon fire, and I was now stuck hunched over away from the stick.

"Vixen! Anyone! I'm stuck away from the stick, and the Belkans are on me! I need help!" I frantically screamed into the radio.

"I'm coming Erich!" Vixen shouted back, "Just hang on!"

I was tugging hard with my right arm to try and get loose, but nothing was working. The shots were bouncing all around me, and I was lucky that I wasn't getting hurt. In desperation, I threw my chest back with all my strength, and managed to get myself free. There was a Hornet hot on my tail. I rolled and did a Split-S which the Belkan followed easily. I then climbed up again, and pulled hard to face him head on. He hadn't reacted quickly enough, and I managed to score a direct hit into his fuselage. As the wounded bird sped past me, the canopy blasted off, and a little white chute came out in the air over it.

"I'm alright Vixen, I got him, whew!" I said relieved. I wiped my face off, which had been covered in a nervous sweat, and continued on the mission.

"Erich you need to be more careful with your arm, you're not quite as flexible as you used to be," Vixen worriedly answered.

"I know, I know. Just don't worry about me. I can take care of myself."

"Oh sure! I know for a fact you can't even tie your shoes."

"You're right about that," I retorted glumly. "Hey Eagle Eye, how's it looking?"

"All clear on my end, we have another squadron coming in to mop-up. Galm Team is clear to RTB immediately."

"Roger Eagle Eye."

Then all of a sudden a great white flash came from the heavens. The squadron that was coming into the AO was caught in whatever it was, and were gone. Just...gone.

"What was that?" I called.

"It's that thing from two days ago at Hydrian!" Buzzard cried.

"Eagle Eye, sit-rep!" I angrily ordered.

"What you just saw is the firing of the Belkan defensive tactical laser system, Excalibur. It can fire at any location within it's operational range every 20 seconds. I think I can make the target zone show up on your radar."

"Thanks, we need all the help we can get! Alright guys, get your butts in gear! We are leaving!" I replied as everyone formed up on me.

A red circle then appeared on the radar a couple thousand feet in front of us.

"BREAK LEFT!"

We all swerved simultaneously and a big beam burned into the space where we would of been. It actually was following us to an extent, so we put the machines onto full combat power in response. The whole squadron continued this dance. In our exfil to the south, we never moved directly south. Our tactic was to move in a zig-zag fashion so that we could know exactly where the laser was firing and avoid it.

"HARD RIGHT NOW!" I boomed.

The birds all banked to the west and avoided the fire. Then all of a sudden, it stopped.

"Your clear of the zone, Galm Team, good work," the AWACS controller rattled off.

I fell back into my seat, and relaxed. That was some real flying. Vixen scooted her Viper close towards me in the formation and gave me a worried look.

"What?" I shot back, "I'm fine. Just tired."

"You had me really worried today, Erich," she replied, "I think it's time you got your prosthetic."

"No. No, no. I'm not doing that," I scowled back, "I can do this without it."

"Be realistic, Erich," she answered tenderly, "You aren't going to last long without it."

I took a look at old stumpy, and shook my head. She was right.

"Fine, but you're going to help me, ok?"

"Of course Erich, I'll help you the whole way."

* * *

><p>-Valais AFB 2000 hrs-<p>

I had been put under again for the operation for my prosthetic. It was supposed to be some new, fancy thing that would actually be able to replicate a real arm. So, after I gave my consent, Dr. Richter went to work to get it attached.

My eyes opened again, in the very same bed, and the very same building that I woke up in when my arm was removed. Vixen was at my right side, and was pleased that I woke up with no problems.

"You feeling ok, Schlafmütze(sleepy-head)?" she giggled.

"Yeah," I said as I rubbed my eyes, "Not too bad." As I did so, the prosthetic had actually come up on instinct just like I had always had it left. It was a metallic black color, and actually was structured similar to a real human arm and hand, with fingers and all the like. "Vixen, it's already working!"

"That's great Erich!" Vixen said as she gave me a small hug. Right at that moment, Dr. Richter came in, and looked much brighter than our last encounter. Vixen quickly pulled away from the hug in embarrassment, but the doctor took no heed of it.

"Ah, Herr Völler, and Frau Ickx!" the old man warmly greeted us shaking both of our hands firmly. "I take it the arm is good?"

"Very!" I replied "It's already up and running."

"Wonderful, it's just how we expected it. The Gründer team who built that, did it especially for you," the doctor continued.

Mentally, I cringed at those words. Gründer. The men who were betting in this war. Based on the fact that they built this for me, told me enough about what side they were on.

"I better get going, Doctor," I said as I got up with no troubles.

"Good luck to you both, keep me posted on how it feels, Major. Just come back if you have any troubles."

"I will, thanks for the help," I answered as he left. I was able to put my own clothes on by myself for once. But Vixen still slapped my hat on my head and buttoned up my great-coat for me.

"I'm not letting you totally make yourself independent again!" she playfully remarked as we headed out of my little space.

"Yeah…" I started, but stopped as soon as I walked out from the dividers. Last time I was here, there were rows upon rows of wounded soldiers. But now, they were gone. When we got to the door of the building I asked one of the guards where they all had gone.

"They moved them up to Directus, they got the hospitals there up and working now. They're much better off now."

"That's a relief, thanks," I admitted.

I walked out into the darkness and the cold, and grasped my cane tightly. I felt I had the world at my fingertips now, ready to take on the worst the Belkans could throw at me. But as it turned out, the worst would come from my own side. As soon as we reached the team hangar under the light of a half moon, a low ranking lieutenant I had never seen before came in. He had black eyes, and perfectly in regulation brown hair. He looked rather nervous. "Where is Major Völler?" he meekishly asked.

"I'm here," I answered as I turned around to face him.

"I have been instructed to order you to report to the base commander, Colonel Henry Perrault at once."

"Excuse me, but did you say that Colonel Henry Perrault was the base commander?"

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant responded with beads of sweat swarming down his face.

"What happened to General Chennault? I thought he was the one in charge around here," I snapped, "Shows what I know."

The lieutenant glanced around nervously, and beckoned Vixen and I to come in closer. "They kicked him out."

"What?" Vixen replied with a look of horror, "Why?"

"It was about the Belkan pilot. The General Staff wanted him executed on the spot. Since Chennault said no, they relieved of his duty and put him in a desk in Oured. I'm sorry, I'm not happy about it either. I heard he was a great commander," the lieutenant sulked.

"Hey kid, what's your name?" I said trying to open the kid up a little bit, and ease the tension.

"Walker, Nick Walker," he replied looking up with less gloom in his eyes.

"I'm Erich, and this is Vicki. You can call us that, and don't worry about the rank."

"Ok," Nick happily responded, "Nice to meet you both."

"Our pleasure," Vixen beamed, "Do you mind leading the way?"

"Of course not, right this way."

We headed off to the GHQ, to meet the new man in charge. We quickly reached the largest building on the base, and I was immediately rushed into the commander's office, Chennault's old office. The once pristine room was now covered in trash and junk, quite opposite of the way it was before. The Colonel was sitting in the chair behind the old commander's desk. He was facing the other way looking out into void of the mountains from his window. The door closed loudly behind me.

"Sit down, Major."

"I'll stand," I boldly proclaimed.

"That's not a request, Major."

"Neither is mine."

He quickly spun around and I got a good luck at the man who was going to be in charge of my world for the rest of the war. He was more heavy-set than everyone else here, but not terribly so. He had to be in his mid 40's, and had black hair hidden under his blue peak cap. The Osean Colonel's Eagle rested above the brim. I was not looking forward to dealing with him.

"You will follow my orders, Major Völler, you Belkan half-life!" he screamed.

"Excuse me?" I yelled, "You're just a Osean schwein!(pig) You have no right to say that about me!"

"Oh really? After what you did with the Belkan Indigo pilot, I might as well write you up for treason," he replied with a devilish smile. I had to hold back all of my anger to not punch him square in the nose. "Now, sit down Major."

"I will not."

"Fine," he replied, "Guards!" Two MP's came in and stood behind me. "Make the Major have a seat."

They grabbed me by my shoulders and attempted to wrestle me into the chair. I responded by punching the one on the left in the groin with my right fist. I then swung around and broke the other one's nose with my prosthetic hand.

"I suggest we just get whatever you want to do over with," I snarled like an angry wolf, "Before I put all of your guards out for the next two months."

"Alright Major, fine," he answered as he got up. The MP's quickly scrambled out of the room to avoid more pain from me, or more punishment from this devil. This guy was a dictator. No one from Galm was going to like him. "This is why I asked you to come here. You now belongs to me."

"Well, that's wrong. Ploesti owns me," I snidely shot back.

"Well, I'm the one who holds the pay over your head," he hissed. I gulped at that. The bastard! "As I was saying, my word is law around here now. If you disobey me further, or rebel against me, I will have you court-martialed and spending the rest of your life in prison. You got me?"

"Yes, sir," I said.

"Good, now get out."

I rushed out and came out with my face red with anger. I was about to bomb this building with my plane if I could help it. Vixen rushed to me, and stopped me.

"Whoa, Erich! That bad, huh?"

"You have no idea. He's a hard-rider. A Big-X."

"Oh, one of them. This can only go well. Is he..."

"Yeah, just as bad," I quietly agreed.

We walked back to the team hangar, and I took my seat in the saddle of the Widow. I just sat back and shook my head at the sky. Vixen climbed up the ladder on the side of the cockpit and stared at the stars with me.

"It's a shame isn't it?" I sighed.

"A real shame. Chennault was a good guy," she whispered, "I hope we can see him again after this."

"Yeah."

We just gazed silently at the stars for a little while. It was a welcome respite from the horror of earlier today. A little while later, three F-16C's came from the skies and landed. We watched them come over to the hangars, and Lothar rushed out to meet them with the crews. I caught sight of the emblem on tail. The purple Crow, clutching an arrow in it's beak.

"Those must be the new interceptors," I remarked as I climbed out of the Widow's cockpit. I followed Vixen over to the Falcons, and the pilots quickly hopped out. I met up with the squadron leader, a 25 year-old red-haired Erusean.

"Are ya Major Völler?" the squadron leader asked in a very heavy accent.

"Yeah, that's me."

"Good, didn't want to spend the whole bloody night searchin' the grounds for ya. We're the new pursuit squadron, Crow Team. I'm Scotty Emerson, my number two over there, the blonde headed lad, is Tommy Watkins. My number three, the little spry youngster, is Patrick James Beckett, we just call him PJ."

"Good to meet you," I responded as we shook hands, "The rest of my team are out for the night, so we'll have to get better acquainted in the morning. This is my number four Vicki Ickx."

"Ah, nice to meet you, lassie!" the squadron leader said as he vigorously shook her hand.

"Greetings," she warmly responded.

"So, what's the skinny on this place, Major? Ploesti didn't give us many details."

"The base itself and the crews are good, accommodations are decent, but the commander's a Big X."

"Excuse me for cutting in," the number two Tommy Watkins cut in, "But what's a Big X?"

"Yeah," the number three PJ chimed, "What's that?"

"Why don't you guys come to mess and get yourself some coffee to warm up? I'll tell you then," I answered.

We headed into mess, and got ourselves the drinks. We all sat down at a table, and I began the story.

* * *

><p>-January 21, 1990 Heinzhollen Secondary School 1330-<p>

The term originally comes from my days in school. I went to school in Heinzhollen, a small farming town. There were only two schools there, the primary and secondary schools. Big X came about on a cold, snowy day in January. The first time it truly came to life.

"Jens, push forward! Los!" I yelled.

We were practicing our tactics for the five-a-side football(soccer) league we played after school. We used recess as a time to get ready for the games which were at night. The team was mainly made up of my gliding buddies, Hans, Jens, and Dieter, along with another guy Erwin, who didn't fly but was a really nice guy. The gliding guys all pretty much looked the same as me, big Aryan northern Belkans, or Herzes as we are called. Erwin was a southerner, or a Neiyer. He was brown-haired and a little slim, more lanky. But, he was quick, very fast. And so, he played as our striker. I played in the attacking midfield directing the offense. Jens and Hans were our flankers and defenders, while Dieter was our goalie. We were a formidable team. We wore the famous Schwarz und Gelb(Black and Yellow), of the biggest northern club in Belka, Herzussia Dinsmark. Although not the most successful team in Belkan football history, they were one of the most formidable.

Jens laid the ball up in a perfect through ball for Erwin which skated smoothly across the snow, and he took a first touch shot at a goal, and the ball blasted into the top-right of the net, with Dieter unable to do anything. We all gave him a high-five and got ready to head back inside. As we started to put our things away, we started to hear some shouting. They were the other schoolkids, who were all Neiyers, the Southerners.

"Go back to your mud-huts Herzes! We don't want you here!"

"Damn Rats! Quit taking up our space!"

The shouts continued until finally their ringleader, a long black-haired six foot Neiyer, by the name of Rudolph Hess came out. He was flanked by four others, all decked in the red, blue, and white kits of the most successful team in Neiyerland region of Belka, Neiyern Lumen. They had won over 30 league titles and three world championships at this time. They were also bitter rivals of Herzussia Dinsmark. They both played in the big Krieg(war) derby, every year on New Year's Day. The Neiyers were especially bitter since Lumen had lost the game rather badly at the score of four to one in favor of Herzussia.

"Well looks like the bumblebees are out today!" Rudolph sneered.

"You ready to play for once?" I called back, "Or you guys going to chicken out again?"

"No, we play this time!"

"Let's go boys," I called as we headed back on to the pitch. I pulled on my black gloves, and put on my ski cap. I checked my laces, and did a quick jog to the other sideline. They were providing the ball, so we just readied ourselves in our formation. I stood right behind Erwin, and shook myself loose. Then they called for the coin toss. We never shook hands with them, in any game we played.

"What's your call?" the goalie for Rudolph's team, Bruno von Reidermann, announced.

"Tails," I announced, since I was captain. The coin skipped up into the air, and quickly returned to the icy earth. It was tails. "We'll take the second half kick-off," I announced.

We returned to our respective positions. A large crowd had gathered around the pitch. It almost felt as if we were at a real football match, and we were playing in it. One of the other kids on the outside was calling time, and blew his whistle to start the five minute first-half.

We shifted back into the four-man wall, and forced them to play it out to the sides. Their right flanker, Timo Uhlman, crossed the ball into the air on our left, trying to place it in the air for Rudolph to head it into the goal. Dieter, having none of it, quickly jumped and snatched the ball out of the air, right in front of Rudolph. We repositioned our formation for the attack, and Dieter played the ball to Hans who started with the ball, racing around on our right side. He managed to make their left flanker, Fritz Lübbecke, miss a slide tackle. Hans then passed the ball over to me, and I began my run, which led me straight into the path of the Neiyer's defensive rock, Ralf Öberheim. This guy was a physical monster, and could barrel over any player he wanted to. The only way I could beat him, was with tricks and finesse. I pulled out a Rainbow Flick, pushing the ball behind me and kicking it high over both of our heads. Before he could react, I was behind him, and heading one-on-one for the goal. Bruno was waiting for me, and was moving frantically around the box trying to get me to lose my concentration. I drew my right leg back, and fired a cracker of a shot, which sped at a break-neck speed into the top-left side of the net. I ran over to the left side of the field where the majority of the crowd was and put my hands to my ears, in a 'I can't hear you' celebration, as the boys all piled on top of me and pushed me into the snow.

We soon got back up and back into positions for them to kick off again. We were ready to push the advantage. Right before the whistle blew, we all began sprinting towards the center circle. As soon as the ball was kicked, I performed a standing tackle, and pushed the ball out from under Rudolph's feet. I quickly passed it forward in a lob to Erwin, who chested it. He then let the ball drop, rotated and fired a volley from about 30 yards out from the goal. The shot hit the ground right in the box, and skidded abnormally due to the ice, and beat Von Reidermann into the bottom right hand corner of the net.

We all rushed over to Erwin, and he was doing his typical 'Shhh!' celebration. I gave him a slap on the back as we returned for another kick off. The whole playground was silent. They couldn't believe what they were seeing. We were demolishing them.

With the score at two to zero, Rudolph then changed their formation putting the tank, Öberheim, up front.

"Scheiße! Hans, Jens! Up front!"

We quickly swapped and went into an ultra-defensive formation pushing our big guys up front to keep Öberheim out. It worked. For ten seconds. As soon as the whistle blew, the tank took the ball, and stormed past them both, knocking them flat onto their backs. Me being next, I quickly took the only choice I could and tripped the big guy. He fell flat on his face about 25 yards from goal. I took the punishment from the ref, a yellow card, and we readied for the free kick. Uhlmann stepped up and delivered a rocket that Dieter couldn't save. The Neiyer crowd went into mass jubilation as they were now back into the game. At the next kickoff, they scored immediately, with Rudolph stealing the ball from Hans, and taking a long shot over on the left, which curved and swept past Dieter into the bottom right of our net.

"Erich! We can't let them play their game!" Dieter shouted.

"Put us back in the old formation!" Hans yelled, "We got this!"

I nodded and we adjusted back into the original formation. Erwin was up front and ready, but then the whistle for halftime blew. We rushed over to the benches and took big gulps of water, and shook ourselves dry. I put my training pullover-jacket on to try and warm up a little, but the Neiyers were pelting us with snow the whole time so we couldn't get dry. We were shivering cold when we took positions for the second half kickoff which was ours.

I stood next to Erwin for the kickoff. The whistle blew and he tapped the ball over to me. I spun around and passed the ball behind me, and to my left to Jens.

"Same thing as practice! Los! Los!" I called.

Jens smirked as he made Uhlmann miss with a perfect Roulette spin, placing the ball at his feet with only Öberheim to beat. Jens quickly pushed the ball between the monster's legs and raced around him to catch the ball. Erwin was wide open in the middle. Jens passed it over to him in the same fashion as before. Erwin took the ball and was about to shoot, when Rudolph came over and pile-drived him into the dirt. Erwin went down screaming in pain. The referee gave Rudolph an instant red card, which meant he was out. But, the feisty Neiyer wasn't finished, and a full out brawl between the teams broke out. I had Rudolph one-on-one. I quickly drove into his legs with my shoulders, and pushed him down. I delivered an uppercut, and in an instant he shook me off, but not before I delivered two kicks to his face with my cleats. It cut his face very badly, and now a blood-red X was on his face. He didn't get up after that, and the teachers came in to restore order. None of my guys got into big trouble since we didn't start the fight. It felt nice to get back at the Neiyern jerks for once. After that, all of my guys started calling Rudolph Big-X, for that mark. Whenever any of us encountered a similar character, we called him a Big-X too. That's where the name came from.

* * *

><p>-Present Day, Valais AFB 2200-<p>

"Wow, that's a story!" PJ remarked.

"You sound like quite the footballer, Erich," Crow's squadron leader, Scotty responded, "Did you ever get any offers to play for any professional clubs?"

"Yeah, I got an offer to play for Lumen's youth development team. I turned it down, mainly because I hate them, and I wanted to fly more."

"Why'd you never tell me that, Erich?" Vixen asked.

"I wasn't important. It never really had an impact on my future. I watch football sometimes on the side. But, I don't regret not playing anymore. You get hurt pretty bad playing, if you're unlucky."

"You got that right," Tommy, Crow's number two declared, "My best mate got his ACL torn so bad he couldn't play anymore. At 18!"

"Geez," I said as I winced at that thought. I checked my watch and it read 2210. "You guys probably want to get some rest. I'll show you to your quarters."

We all walked off, and I smiled at the thought of my new friends. It seems in every situation there is good and bad. You just have to focus on the good.

**AN/: Bet you didn't see a lot of that coming did ya? This chapter was SO much fun to write for me, and I actually liked writing about football(it's soccer, but call it football. It's the real football anyways, not the silly American one!) Hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did, and I'll see you next time for the Excalibur raid!**

**Glossary:**

**Big X: Reference to the nickname of Squadron Leader Bartlett in The Great Escape(Played by Richard Attenborough). **

**Herzes: Equivalent to Northern Germans, or Prussians**

**Neiyers: Equivalent to Southern Germans, or Bavarians.**

**Herzuissa Dinsmark: Reference to Borussia Dortmund, the best football club in Germany! Echte Liebe!(They beat their big rivals Schalke 04 this weekend in the Rivierderby, 3-0. Great match since Dortmund has been struggling as of late.)**

**Neiyern Lumen: Refernce to Bayern Munich, the most successful club in Germany. (BOOOOO! Even Schalke is better, and we hate them a lot too!)**


	12. Chapter 12: The Birth of Man and Demon

**AN/: Guten Tag everyone. For those who have stuck with me and have read all of my chapters up to this point, thanks. This chapter is for you guys.**

Ch. 12 The Birth of the Man, the Birth of the Demon.

_War is the continuation of politics by other means._

_Carl von Clausewitz_

* * *

><p>-May 23, 1995 Valais AFB 0945 hrs.-<p>

The past couple of days had been hectic, mainly in getting the Crow squadron up to speed. I ran a lot of tactic and dog-fighting drills with them, trying to get them comfortable with everyone's flying style and our way of air combat. While I watched them fly, I discovered the skill of Crow squadron was inversely related with the command structure. Scotty was a barely passable fighter pilot, while Tommy was decent and caught with no serious troubles. PJ though was in a totally different league, definitely on the fringe on being close to Pixy and myself. I didn't tell them this, mainly because I didn't want to start any animosity from the others towards him, and he was already barraged enough with the teasing he was getting over his girlfriend who was staying on base as a nurse. PJ was really something, and I was tempted to give him a promotion to my group. But, I dismissed the thought. He needed some time to improve and adjust better to the new tactics.

That morning I was in the mess trying to get my brain to wake up with a cup of coffee, when the alert came in for the briefing. I quickly threw away my tonic, and rushed that way, my Rittmeister cane pounding ominously into the tile floor. Vixen quickly caught up to me, and we silently acknowledged each other's presence as we arrived for the briefing, about five minutes early. Everybody else was already there, and I was relieved that they were getting along rather well. Scotty and Buzzard became fast friends, and teased each other over the Usean-Erusean rivalry constantly. Tommy had made friends with Zero, with Crow 2 actually getting him talking more than his usual four sentences a day. PJ was busy taking in some knowledge from Pixy, since he tried to hang out more with people like himself, the true fighter pilots. They all turned and gave a salute as I entered the room, and I quickly waved them off.

"Don't do that guys," I said shooing away the attention, "I'm not that much of a prick, am I?"

They all had a good laugh at that as the call for attention came and we spun to face the front of the room as the Colonel came in, looking rather full of himself.

"At ease, let's get this show going for once."

We silently sneered at him as the lights went out, and the business-as-usual briefing began.

"This is your target," the Colonel stated as a blurry black and white image of a menacing tower appeared behind him, "This is the laser system that attacked you over Schanye, Excalibur. We believe it to be a Belkan anti-aircraft defense chemical laser weapon developed as a missile defense system. According to our information, the strike zone is heavily guarded by a jamming facility and multiple anti-aircraft artillery units. Your objective is to destroy Excalibur. But to do that, you must first neutralize the jamming facility and the anti-aircraft artillery. You all will be armed with Air-to-Ground munitions, since there is no threat of aerial defense according to our forward scouts. Interceptors will also be armed with attacker loadouts."

"Sir, I don't think that's wise," I warned, "The Belkans probably know we're coming due to the scouts. They're not going to let their prized aerial defense system fall without any type of air support. I request that the interceptors load-outs be changed back to an air superiority load, sir."

"Negative Major," he proclaimed, "I am certain there will be no such need for that. The interceptors will be armed to my orders. If that is all, you're dismissed."

The room went to attention as he headed out, with the Colonel not even returning it. I quickly gathered everyone outside of GHQ, and gave them my own briefing.

"Alright everyone, listen up. We're throwing those armament orders right out the window," I informed the team, and they all nodded in approval, "Buzzard, Vixen, and Zero, you'll carry the AG stuff."

"Roger Boss, you got it," Buzzard answered.

"Pixy, Crow Team and myself will take on the AG munitions, but we'll jettison it after we take off. The plan is to put them into the valley, so no one gets hurt. Everything else is the same. You got it? Good. Let's show the good Colonel that they shouldn't mess with us on my birthday."

The team dispersed and all ran off to their respective planes, and I rapidly mounted the Red Widow with ease. I strapped myself in, and Lothar gave me my trademark black and gold helmet.

"Good luck today, Erich. Go earn that leave you got waiting for you," the mechanic shouted as the turbines started up.

I gave him a thumbs up, and gave the wave-off signal to clear the space in front of me, and clear the menagerie on the plane. I put the girl into motion, and started the parade of expensive birds down to the end of the runway. I checked the count and made sure there were seven planes behind me. When I completed that, I contacted the tower to begin the takeoffs.

"Tower this is Galm 1, requesting takeoff for my team and Crow Team, runway 9, over."

"Roger Galm 1, you're clear for takeoff. Good luck, and happy birthday."

"Thanks tower, Galm 1 copies all."

I gently pushed the throttle to the max level as I was pushed back into my seat by the G's. I tugged back on the stick and pulled into a gentle climb. As I did so, I switched the weapon arm to on, and selected the AG munitions I had, and toggled for a jettison release. As soon as we formed up, I turned off with Pixy and Crow. We dove low for the dirt, and I readied my finger on the release. At about 7,000 feet, and at a 30 degree angle dive, we were go.

"Mark!"

The missiles all streaked away from our planes, snaking towards the snow covered earth. They impacted smack dab in the center of the valley, safely away from the base.

"Alright make course for Vector triple zero," I ordered as I turned back to the north, "Today, we change the war."

-May 23, 1995 Five minutes out from Excalibur in Belka, 1105 hrs-

"Thanks for the fill-up Rhino," I called as I finished the air-refueling with the KC-135.

"Roger Galm 1, good luck out there."

I rolled down and out of the way, and at last the refueling was done. The Widow felt to me like she was uneasy, and I didn't blame her. I was scared too. The laser system's tower was finally appearing on the murky horizon. We were lucky it wasn't raining. It would be a lot worse of a fight with the rain messing with our heads.

"Hey PJ, you need to tell her how you feel!" Tommy called.

"Yeah, someone's going to take her away if you're not careful!" Scotty jested at Crow 3.

"Now's not the time for this guys!"

I was looking forward and started to see a small glow on the horizon. I looked back at everyone, and the Tanker hadn't left yet.

Oh shit, They're screwed!

"Everyone Scramble! Disperse! MOVE IT! The Laser's firing!"I called even before the AWACS was able to pick up. The mass of planes swarmed away from the tanker, and in an few seconds, the Extender was burnt into ashes. There was no time to react to the carnage, as we needed to hit this thing immediately. "Alright ground-pounders, you're going to make one long sweep, east to west, and hit the jammers in the lower area all in one go. From the radar it looks like there's choppers. Crow team, you're going to take them out and keep the ground-pounders safe."

"Roger," Buzzard replied, "We're moving."

"I copy, Galm 1," Scotty replied, "And my tac-callsign is Jericho, by the way."

"Roger, Jericho."

"And mine is Fox," Tommy added.

"Roger, Fox. Keep them safe Jericho."

"No worries Cipher."

"And that leaves you and me, Pixy," I said as I looked over at the solo-wing Eagle.

"What are we doing, buddy?"

"Distracting the laser."

"You can't be serious, that thing will decimate us up close!"

"Have I kidded around on sortie before?"

"No."

"Then let's move it!"

We rose right up to about 15,000 feet and put ourselves right in front of the laser tower. It was a menacing monstrosity, colored in a midnight black. This was the machine that had taken so many lives. It was time for some good 'ol retribution, Ustian style. I rocked my wings and pushed myself in close to make sure their firing operators saw me, and knew who was knocking on their door. About 10 seconds later, I saw the top of tower begin to light up again.

"Alright, circle!" I ordered, and Pixy and I hit the afterburner moving around the tower counter-clockwise. To our luck, the plan worked. The laser could only fire in one horizontal direction within it's firing circle, but it could move up and down. We knew its weakness. With that out of the way, I checked back in on the ground attack.

"How's it going bird-brain?" I called in on the comm.

"Hey, stuff it!" Buzzard called, "We're doing great, if you're desperate to know."

"Uh-huh. How long until all the jammers are out?" I asked.

"About 2 minutes, Boss."

"Why have you started calling me Boss, Buzzard?"

"I don't know. It fit."

I pondered that thought as we drew another shot from the laser. It was now locked firing north towards Belka, and I could tell they were getting frustrated. They began firing so much they were taxing their generators, which were emitting more and more fumes as we passed over them.

"Ok boys," Jericho reported in, "The jammers are down."

"Roger, Crow 1," Eagle Eye butted in, "Next line of targets are now available for attack. The generators around the structure must be destroyed before attacking the main tower. Get to work teams."

"Roger Double E. Alright ground-pounders, munitions check, how are you doing?"

"We've got enough to finish the job, Cipher," Vixen replied, "Hopefully. I've got six, Buzzard has five, and Zero has six as well."

"Good. Get after the generators," I instructed as my attention went back to my radar. A few moments later, five blips came up from the north, moving fast towards our location. My bet had been right on the money.

"Galm 1..." Eagle Eye began.

"I got them. PJ! You're coming with me and Pixy!" I yelled.

"Roger Cipher, let's get them!"

"Jericho, Fox, you keep a CAP going. If any of these guys break through, you're free to engage."

"Roger, Cipher, we'll keep an eye on 'em," Jericho quipped.

I switched over the frequency to see who would be our sparring partners for the day.

"This Silber One, targets in sight. They're fast. Follow them. This will be your final lesson!"

A chorus of rogers came back at the squadron leader ,and the Belkan formation finally came into view. A F-4 was leading the show with four Falcons, all painted white with black and grey tiger stripes. This was Silber no doubt, and the old man Dietrich Kellerman was in the firing line. Recruitment levels must of been bad if they needed him back.

"Pixy, PJ you take the Falcons. I'm dueling with the Phantom."

"Roger Cipher, show 'em what you got buddy!" Pixy said. The Solo Wing Eagle and PJ's Falcon broke off quickly broke off to start their fights. It left me alone. One-on-one. It almost harkened back to the days when this warfare began eighty long years ago, the old dogs. It reminded me of my father. I bowed my head and whisphered a small prayer.

"If you're watching dad, give me strength, give me courage, and give me clarity. I've never forgotten. I never will." When my head rose, I was not the same man. I was different, possessed by the fire inside my head that had refused to rage for so long. All the pent up anger, all the pent up sorrow, it came out of me at that moment. And it made me stronger.

I slammed the throttle forward on the left giving it full-juice. I rose into the heavens, above the clouds, and I rolled and did a Split-S and was on Kellerman's tail. He raced up again, trying to shake me, but I kept a close eye on him. He tried to Immelmann, but I hit the brakes and turned even tighter than he could. Kellerman then dove, and two Falcons were coming right at me. I flipped on the arm for my sidewinders, and locked them both up. I could see the missiles from the Falcons streaking my way. I mashed the fire button, rolled onto my belly, and dove hard. Both of the Falcons went down behind me, and the chase was back on. Initially, I overshot him as he climbed again. I didn't follow and readjusted to an altitude of about 30,000 feet. I cracked my neck, and waited for him to come to me. After a minute or two, he realized this started coming my way. Then, instinctively, I changed over to general comms.

"Kellerman, if you can here me, I suggest that you leave with your dignity intact. I don't want to tarnish the career of a great man."

"Was? Du bist tu?"(What? Who is this?)

"Der Rote Teufel,"(The Red Devil) I replied. It was silent for a little bit, then he resumed his attack. "It's your loss, Kellerman. You're defending a gamed system, a corrupted country. I'm sad to hear you believe in that, I thought very highly of you. I guess you don't think the same."

I gunned towards his Phantom and pulled back as hard as I could on the trigger of the cannon. The shots punctured into the famed airframe, and I was crying inside. I raced behind him, and reversed immediately. I rode right behind him. I just sat there, letting his defeat sink in. And then, he ejected. The plane slowly fell, and disappeared through the clouds. I couldn't control myself as I wept. This was mindless, senseless fighting. Why did I have to do this to him? What does this accomplish, making him do that in disgrace?

"Why didn't I listen you dad?" I said out loud as I wiped the waters of humanity from my eyes. I steadied myself once again, as Excalibur still needed to be dealt with.

"Pixy you done?" I sternly called, a hint of anger permeating through the radio.

"Roger Cipher, you still alive?"

"For now. Form up. We're breaking Belka's sword."

We formed up just above the clouds to the north of weapon. We put ourselves in a slight dive, and prepared to fire.

"We're going to use cannons. Nothing more," I instructed.

"Roger Cipher, we'll show 'em!" PJ exclaimed with an innocence that I had lost long ago.

We broke through the clouds and I saw the other guys swarming all over Excalibur, and it was struggling to keep up the fire.

"Everyone move! We're coming in for our run!" I shouted.

"Erich, what are you doing?! You don't have any AG weapons!" Vixen barked at me with anger and worry.

"Wrong. I've got my gun, and I'm going to end it with my gun. Open fire!"

A flurry of 20mm fire was now directed at the laser's tower, and it instantaneously turned the whole situation upside down. The tower was leaking fire, from the holes we made, and was now leaning over towards the east. The sword was ready to be shattered.

"Pixy, PJ break off."

"What? What are you doing, buddy? You can't do this alone!" my wingman shot back.

"No. I will do this alone."

I reversed as the other two reluctantly moved away. I came in from the south this time, heading for the top of the tower. I smashed my finger into the trigger, and the lead came out again, spitting hot rain at the tower of lies. It ripped Excalibur to shreds, and eventually it began to fall. The tower slumped to the dirt, Belka's greatest weapon sunk, dead. We were one more step closer to going home. Another weapon of evil was gone. A great pressure was lifted from my shoulders.

And with that, everyone was celebrating. I wasn't. I was deathly still the whole flight back. Vixen tried to rouse me out of my state, but to no avail. I was at a total loss for words. I still felt terrible, and I needed some time alone on the ground to right myself.

I'll tell her when we start flying towards her place, I thought to myself, It'll be easier then.

We landed back at Valais three hours later. I got out of the Widow and stood in silence next to the nose of my bird. As soon as Lothar walked up to me, I threw my helmet down and cracked it on the pavement of the hangar. I took my walking stick and crushed hat from him and stormed off. There was no expression on my worn face. I had a lot more wrinkles than I did a year ago, my eyes were much more heavy set than they were before as well. I looked like a totally different person than I did when I enlisted. I was a wreck.

I went down to the end of the runway where we had that remembrance for Tiger, which seemed like such a long time ago. I bowed my head again, and said another little prayer, hoping my dad was there with me. "I'm sorry dad, I should've listened when you said those things to me. I was foolish to not believe you. If you're listening dad, I hope you forgive me. I'm sorry I killed you. My actions have caused so much pain." Suddenly, I heard somebody's steps behind me, and I turned to look. It was Vixen, her face full of a mixture of emotions, anger, sorrow, worry, and every other one you could name. When I turned my face back to the valley, I started to speak again. "I'm an ugly wreck, aren't I?"

"No," she shot back, "If you were a wreck, you couldn't of whipped everybody here into the best squadron the world has ever seen."

I chuckled, "Yeah, at the cost of my own sanity."

"What?" she replied, "Don't tell me that, Erich! You and I both know that's bullshit! Listen to me!" She grabbed onto my shoulders and turned me around. "Erich, you've got to stop beating yourself up over this, ok? You're only going to make it worse for yourself. And stop with that nonsense about you regretting doing this, because without it, we wouldn't have ever met. So, keep your chin up Erich. I know you can do this."

I smiled at her with tears running down my cheeks. I grabbed onto her and pushed my head into her left shoulder as I cried. She softly sat me down onto the tarmac and stayed with me there for a good hour. I finally stopped sobbing, and she helped me back to my feet.

"You ready to go do something fun for once, birthday boy?" she called, "I got your present waiting for you at my place, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. Let's get going before Perrault tries to rub his authority in my face again."

I walked back to the team hangar, immediately making my way over to Lothar who was busy trying to fix my helmet. My famed hunk of plastic now had a crack running along the right side.

"Lothar, it's fine. I'll wear it like that."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'll wear my scars proudly. I'm not hiding things like that anymore."

He gave it back to me, and he gave me a hug, "Good to see you're back with us. I'll get the Falcon ready for you."

"Thanks Lothar," I replied as he ran off. I stood there looking up to the stormy sky, and Vixen came over and took my right hand, holding it firmly. I looked over at her, and kissed her on her forehead. "We go forward together, no matter what."

She smiled at that, and we looked back to the base as my old machine was rolled out once more. I walked to the machine and did a once over. I checked the storage pods for our stuff, and it was all there ready to go.

"I packed and stowed your things for you," Lothar said, "I figured you wanted to get out ASAP."

"Everyday you give a lot for us," I said to my mechanic, my friend,"Enjoy your time off, go see your dad while you still can."

"I might just do that," he replied with his mouth curling into a smile, "Take it easy Erich."

I mounted up and took my place in the front seat. We had a short hour long flight to a small regional airport to the south of Directus. Vixen had made the arrangement for our landing time at 1600. I checked my watch and it read 1455. I buckled myself in. I waved-off the crews and got the old girl moving. I moved down to the end of the runway and stopped.

"This is Cipher and Vixen, requesting permission for takeoff tower."

"Roger..." then I heard a scuffle over the radio, and a new voice came on.

"Galm 1, you will turn that plane around and report to me at once."

Perrault. No. Not this time.

"I have filed my leave months in advance, and it was already cleared. I know I have to be back by the 27th in four days. There was nothing I did wrong, sir."

"Negative, I need you to stay here on alert," the Colonel retorted, "It is my orders, and it countermands all previous commands! Now, get the hell back here Galm 1!"

"I can not comply."

"I thought I heard you wrong Major, say that again?"

"I can not comply with those orders. I'll gladly take my court-martial at a later date. I'm leaving."

I ignored the screams of the cold-hearted man that ran this base and headed to my real home, the skies. Once we were airborne, we headed along the same old flight path we used on almost every sortie heading for the front to the north. After a few minutes, Vixen broke the silence.

"Are you serious about the court-martial, Erich?"

"I won't let anyone stand in the way of us being together. That's just pathetic on his end. If it's about the ordinance crap, fine. If it's about anything else, fine. It can wait until I get back. This shit I can not tolerate."

"Now that's the Erich I remember," she replied softly.

The skies cleared, finally, the sun shining out from the lower part of the western sky. I stared over that way, taking in the warmth deep into my very soul.

Maybe I just need a few days where it's warm, I thought. I just need some time, alone. No. Together.

Later, we finally arrived at the airport in Gerensburg. I pulled out a little paper that had the jargon I needed to say for us to land.

"Gerensburg Tower, this is Falcon One Oscar Zulu Mike, requesting immediate landing on runway 10. We have been pre-cleared, over."

"Roger, Falcon One Oscar Zulu Mike, the runway's clear for you. Welcome home."

I lined the Falcon for landing, and cut the engines back. I lowered the flaps, and threw the lever for the landing gear, which locked in under the plane with a 'THUD'. I glided the old girl in and made a perfect landing. I slowed up, and was led off the line by the ground crew. They led us over to one of the maintenance hangars, and helped us out. I locked the canopy release up, and grabbed my bag from the storage pods. As we left, they locked up the hangar behind us.

"Don't worry, I've know these guys a long time. This is what I did when I came back on leave after Sapin."

"Alright, are your parents here yet?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you?" she asked as she turned to face me.

"What happened?"

"I got my own place in downtown Gerensburg now, with the money I got from Ploesti."

"Wow, really? I better check what I made too!" I replied.

"Come on, we can do that later, my car's over here." She had a little black hatchback made by VolksAuto, not one of the most reliable cars in the world mind you, and we all piled our things in the trunk. "My parents will be coming over for dinner though, is that ok?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

"Good," she replied as we got in and she started the car. Vixen shifted into first gear and we were off. After a short ten-minute drive we were in the center of the town and she parked in an alley behind one of the big buildings in the main square. Gerensburg was a lot like what Heinzhollen used to be like, small, rustic, but with modern accommodations. We walked up a small staircase up the back side of one of the bigger buildings to a door on the second floor. Vixen quickly unlocked it, and we headed inside. It was a rather nice two bedroom apartment with a big kitchen with a dining area, a large living room, and panoramic windows showing views of the old square.

"What'cha think?" she asked as she threw her bag on the floor.

"Not bad, Vixen! Didn't know you took this much to the bank!"

"Yeah, the pay's actually been good. You should check tomorrow when you have time."

"I will," I said as I looked at my watch it read 1615, "When are your parents going to be here?"

"About half an hour. It gives me time to give you your present, I'll be right back ok? Don't stray off," she said as she headed back out the door.

"Fine, fine," I replied. Now, I was alone. I took a seat on the couch facing the window looking out into the square, and threw my bag on the floor in front of me. I laid my head back and tried to relax, but my mind was really taxed. I closed my eyes to rest a little, and it worked somewhat. A few minutes later I heard some barking outside somewhere, and it woke me up from my light nap. I looked around and then closed my eyes again, thinking it was nothing. Then, Vixen came back as I heard some pattering on the floor and panting.

She did not, I thought. No way!

I turned around and next to Vixen at about hip height was a dog.

"Is that..." I barely managed to get out.

"Yes, he's all yours."

I got up and walked over to him. He was a beautiful black shepherd dog, a Wielvakian one, especially with the short black fur with brown streaks snaking along his back. His tongue was shaking out of his mouth as he gave me his bright black eyes in his stare. I took a knee in front of him. He didn't stir from his happy state. He just looked at me like a friend, like I had never done anyone wrong. I had an uncontrollable grin on my face. I stood back up and gave Vixen a big hug.

"Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. This...this is incredible," I whisphered.

"I figured you'd like it."

"And now, what to name you..." I pondered over what to call my hund(dog), and instantly a name came to mind. It was the name of my dad's dog from before I was born. Moritz. "How's Moritz sound, boy?" The hund barked in reply, and he jumped up on his hind legs to lick my face. I was ok with some slobber. "Good!" I laughed.

"Oh, I got this too. When your house, you know..." she said trying not to stir up those memories, and handed me a key. "You wrote in some paper your dad made, that in case he died and the house was lost, your things would be moved to my parent's place. When I moved, I moved it here. You want to go check on it?"

"Sure, why not."

We headed back outside, with Moritz in tow. There was a small garage in the alleyway, and she pushed the door open. Behind it was the front of a big cargo shipping container, which took up most of the space of the garage. I walked up to it, and put my key in the padlock and twisted it. The lock dropped off, and the big, hulking steel doors opened. I walked inside with my jaw dropping at the contents of it.

"I totally forgot about this!" I exclaimed as I gazed at what was inside. To put it bluntly, it was a car.

A 1974 TRW 2002 Turbo to be exact, my dad's, and he had bought it brand new in 1974. It was painted in a matte white, with the TRW racing colors of blue and red on the bumpers which also bared the 2002 moniker. I walked up to the car, and unlocked it with the key as well. In the back seat was a small box, and a rifle sleeve. I opened the small box first, and pulled out a pistol. A Walther PPK, along with a concealed holster. I quickly checked the magazine, and lo-and-behold there were rounds in there. I put the holster on under my jacket, and put the pistol in there as well with the safety on. I finally checked the sleeve, and found the old beauty herself. My hunting rifle. It was a scoped Belkan K98 long rifle, chambered in 8mm. There were two boxes of rounds in there, so I zipped it up quickly, since I wasn't going to openly carry that thing around town. Vixen stood in the doorway of the container along with Moritz and shook her head.

"What you jealous?" I teased her.

"A little, let's see if that car will start before you keep gloating."

"Right."

I walked around to the left side and squeezed myself in. I readied myself at the driver's seat and put the key in. I crossed my fingers, I heard the starter spinning as I turned the key. The turbo inline four immediately shouted to life, and I honked the horn for Vixen and Moritz to move. I floored the 170 hp motor and entered the alleyway, parking my car neatly behind Vixen's.

"Not bad, eh?" I said closing the door.

"Alright, alright. Quit your gloating. We have about 5 minutes before my parents get here, do you want to go get ready, in something other than your uniform?"

"Probably a good idea." I raced back up the stairs, rushing inside to grab my bag with Moritz hot on my heels. "Which bedroom am I in, Vicki?" I shouted.

"The one on the left side!" she replied from the alley.

I rushed in the room and began to change. It was going to be a long night.

**AN/: Well there's the surprise revealed, along with Erich's new wheels. As you may know, I'm going to try to update once more some time tomorrow, since I'll be unable to get near a computer for the whole of next week. I hope you guys enjoy, and hopefully I'll see you again very soon.**

**Karaya 1**

**Glossary:**

**Wielvakia: My in universe refernce for the Netherlands.**

**Moritz: The name of Manfred von Richthofen's dog, who(shock, horror) was also a Dutch hound.**

**VolksAuto: Reference to Volkswagen.**

**TRW: Reference to BMW, the 2002 Turbo is a real car.**

**Walther PPK: James Bond's gun of choice in the early Sean Connery days, has resurfaced in the newer films too.**

**K98: German mainstay bolt-action rifle. In service in both world wars, though in WWII it was more common in a carbine, shorter form. The one Erich has is the WWI, longer length rifle.**


End file.
